See you in life Beyond
by SesshaTetsuko
Summary: For as long as he remembers, life had never been easy for him. So when carefully-buried memories are brutally awakened, the former assassin finds himself in the grip of his inner demons... And the worst can happen * A post-Jinchuu story, depicting Kenshin's struggle with his past and future, and how he and Kaoru finally became a family...* (canon characters, pls mind the M-rating)
1. The instinct of a father

**_**Disclaimers:**_** The original author of RK is Nobuhiro Watsuki (does anyone in this section ignore this, by the way?)

For those who could ask and to close the debate, I am among the people who separate the work of their author. You can get a great message and be yourself a marginal. Many creative geniuses were crazy, and if we crush our environment with the mill of modern Western morality we can clearly remove a large part of our arts and our history books. This being said that I absolutely do not endorse this kind of behavior, and if you have doubts I urge you to read my story until the last chapter, you will probably have the answer to any question you might have about my opinion on such a heart-tearing subject...

I recommend you absolutely the three live action films about Kenshin released these last years (Rurouni Kenshin, Kyoto Inferno, The end of the legend), where the main actor Takeru Sato is doing wonders, and whose music sets and saber scenes choreographies are nearing perfection...

I would like to see more fanfiction about RK, so here is a potentially long story that will show most of the different protagonists of Rurouni Kenshin universe... (a small note anyway, some themes raised here are rather adult so I recommend you to skip this story if you are under 16, provided that I am not wrong with the ranking recommendations of this site of course). I am not a native english writer, so I must ask you to excuse my poor writing (and please tell me if I make any mistake).

Enough of speaking, "on with the fic"!

* * *

 _ _ **Chapter 1:**__ The instinct of a father

* * *

Year 11 of the Meiji era, 3rd quarter of the Gregorian calendar. Somewhere around Kyoto ...

Hiko Seijuro felt a tremendous pain hit him.

He'd had a bad feeling that evening. The kind of presentiment that binds your guts and paralyzes your spine. The continuity of a strange malaise that had lasted for several months. But since he was certainly not a man to be swayed or depressed, he had gone to practice as always, at that same waterfall where he used to train his only disciple in the past.

 _ _Really, what could happen on such a beautiful night...?__

Surrounding him, the almost full moon was at its zenith and the soft air of early spring was blowing peacefully. More than anything he enjoyed these nocturnal kata sessions... They were invigorating his body, relieving his mind, releasing his ki. Thinking back with nostalgia at the time when he was not alone on these secluded rocks, he raised his eyes to the star-crossed sky.

It was another, much more tumultuous epoch, in a land where suffering and human desperation were daily bread. Among all, his disciple had one of the most difficult childhoods. From what little he knew, a hard, authoritarian father, who spoke preferably with his fists and pushed his children to exhaustion in the fields, hoping to prepare them for the harsh trials of peasant life. Shinta was too small, too sickly to survive, he had told him. Between looting and epidemics, in those years the sons of the soil had difficulty feeding their families. His mother seemed loving but hardly ever present for the family because of her weak constitution, and he had mentioned brothers and sisters, without expanding on the subject. Probably one of the things his memory had chosen to erase to protect himself. Then the cholera epidemic had struck, ravaging the small mountain village. A sickness born in filth, ruthless, showing his victims literally emptying from the inside before dying of dehydration, most often lying in their own excrement. The young Shinta, miraculously escaped from that bacterial onslaught, was then left alone to dig the grave of his relatives. At six years old. The remaining adults in the village who were too busy saving those still living all the while trying to stop the spreading of the disease had logically no consideration for funeral rites, and sold the orphan to slave traders. It was probably better for him ; the remaining inhabitants could not decently take care of a child too young to work and with whom no one had bond anymore. The epidemic would in the end extinguish the whole hamlet in the following months... But as the dark hours of Bakumatsu were approaching, the slavers were no longer kind souls. They would not bother with mouths to feed unless they certainly earn them money... so a young boy with an effeminate face, eyes and hair with exotic colors, too thin to defend from their adult bodies...

The new apprentice had never talked about this period with Hiko, but he understood what had happened while listening to his nightmares, night after night. He had been tied up, abused, raped as a commodity, just like the women who were transported with him. These things were unfortunately common place at the end of the Edo era. Seijuro had felt a deep anger by realizing the damage done to his young disciple, but railing against people who were already dead by his own hand was a shot in the dark. All this was simply part of the harsh reality of that time. Still, Shinta had buried these people. Against all odds, he had chosen to fight to become stronger, pushed forward by an inexplicable wish to live and help the others. He never had seen a child with so much determination. Pushed to the ground, he would get up, thrown into the water, he would learn to swim, beaten to hell and he would still raise his bokken to protect what he cares about. Such a rage, such a purity, such talent... A perfect blade to be forged by Hiten Mitsurugi school!

Yet he should have known that this fierce child would not stay long at his side. Hiko had been secretly heartbroken when he had seen his pupil throw himself straight into the whirlwind of revolution, making him one of the greatest murderers of his century. At each of the many lives taken, each passer-by who would shake like a leaf at the mere mention of Battosai's dreadful name, Seijuro regretted having taken him under his wing and passed on his precious legacy. And when he had heard of the death of his wife Tomoe by his own hand, his sentence had reached its peak.

 _ _Himura Kenshin... shall never cease digging graves ...__

Hiko looked lazily around the landscape. The milky way in the sky and the ocher moon, the sound of the waterfall upstream.

 _ _...and standing up after all.__

He still remembered the day he had unexpectedly come back, ten years later, eyes stricken by fatality... but at the bottom of which still shone that same obstinacy: to help _fellow human beings_ with his body and soul. The renegade student had returned home. Hiko had felt the pride of being his master anew, even though he had never voiced such feelings in his presence. Never would he have dared to hope rebuilding the ghost of a relationship with his former disciple before, but... Although he could not admit it, their destinies had been inexorably linked from the day he had chosen to give a name to this little being with strange blood-colored hair and cerulean gaze...

Emerging from his reminiscences, the aged master methodically resumed his kata. Like an old song, his perfectly coordinated and controlled gestures were slicing through the air with indecent ease. The gracious yet strong moves were melting into the rock and the water of the landscape, allowing the martial choreography to create its own life and sublimate the perfect night scene. Hiko Seijuro, shaped of powerful muscles and sharp mind, was a real force of nature.

...And it is precisely in the midst of this well-known dance that the tremendous pain came to strike him.

The tall man suddenly collapsed to the ground, lifting masses of dried earth in his path, his body pressed by an occult power. An evil of a rare violence was piercing him from one side to the other, brutally removing the air from his lungs, as if... as if he had been stabbed in the chest, right aside his heart.

 _ _What on earth is happening?!__

He spread his ki with all his might in hope of countering the invisible blow. The pain was nailing him to the ground. He could not breathe anymore. He, the thirteenth master of Hiten Mitsurugi, the undefeated, was overwhelmed by a force he knew nothing about. That's when he was struggling to get up that he had this instinct. This terrible instinct only a father has for his child.

" ** **KENSHIN**** !"

* * *

 _ _Somewhere in the veil of darkness, a forgotten soul was in torment.__

 _ _Unbeknownst to the gaze of living ones and conscience, it dreamt of death as a liberation every night.__

* * *

 _ _ **Next chapter :**__ Hanami

Take some time to write me a little review to tell me if it's worth it for me to continue, and to reinflate my box of courage! ;+)

(I probably wrote a lot of mistakes, english being not my native langage ; I therefore accept all the criticisms, positive as negative - provided that they are constructive of course -)


	2. Hanami

**A/N :** A big thank for your encouraging reviews! : D Nothing makes me happier than being able to share a pleasant piece of reading (I am personally so glad when I discover a fiction that I like about our adorable and tortured characters ... mouahaha ^^ +)! It is such an additional motivation for me to continue, so do not hesitate to write me a little word ( I only eat chocolate for now, yet no human beings) ... ;)

Here is a lexicon for those who would like one:

Sessha: it's the pronoun Kenshin uses to talk about him; in the Japanese version, he rarely says "I" but uses sessha instead (except when he is in a murderous mood, in which case he uses "ore" which is much less polite), which is an ancestral and humble way to designate oneself from what I've understood (a little as if he was depreciating himself). Like a lot of other authors, I translate it by "this one" in english. He also uses the expression "gozaru" in almost all of his sentences, which is an old and very polite way of expressing himself that he's the only person to use and that gives him a very particular and characteristic phrasing compared to other characters in Japanese, that I have chosen to translate by "that I do..." (like many authors also). He also expresses himself very differently when he is an assassin, all these nuances enrich the characters but they are often lost to the benefit of translation (in my country that's the case).

-dono: Japanese suffix of politeness used to designate a person. As some others, I would tend to translate the "Kaoru-dono" that Kenshin uses in "miss Kaoru", but again the Japanese language has precise notions that are difficult to transcribe.

Edamame: preparation of immature beans of soy (or branch bean) cooked in boiling water

Hanami : Japanese traditional custom to appreciate the beauty of flowers, mainly cherry blossoms (sakura), when from late March or early April, they enter full bloom.

Onigiri: rice balls wrapped in nori seaweed triangular or oval, they can be stuffed with dried plum, grilled fish ...

Shôchû: liquor of barley, rice or buckwheat ...

Sumimasen: "I'm sorry" or "excuse me" (translates literally from Japanese: "there is no reason to give")

* * *

 ** _ **Chapter 2:**_** Hanami

* * *

Exhaling slowly, he focused his cerulean gaze on the peaceful scene in front of him.

The sacred trees were adorned with a thick white and pink veil, petals falling of their branches in graceful volutes, covering the ground with a pearly carpet. This year the bloom of cherry blossoms marking the beginning of spring in Japan had been late due to a harsh winter. Thus, when the long-awaited hanami had finally arrived in Tokyo, the shores of the Meguro River were filled with people looking for a time of contemplation among the trees or a simple reunion with their family.

Yahiko being gone to celebrate the event with the Akabeko's team -in other words, with Tsubame-, the owner of the Kamiya Kasshin dojo and her newly stated lover, Kaoru and Kenshin, were for once alone. They had chosen an isolated corner near the wooden bridge, where the young kendoka had set up a purple fabric on which a few provisions were arranged : home-made food, water freshly drawn from the dojo's well, two cups and a bottle of traditional shôchû. The couple had arrived in the early afternoon, and were now pecking some edamame and onigiri, sitting across from each other.

 _ _I wonder what goes through his head when he has such a look...__

While they were enjoying the gentle air of the shore, the master of Kamiya Kasshin was thoughtful. Ever since they were here Kenshin had remained mostly silent, merely watching the petals fall away. In fact, it had been almost fifteen minutes since the samurai had last blinked.

 _ _...Is he still reminding himself of the Bakumatsu? Or mourning after Enishi's incident...?__

"...Kenshin?"

Only the sound of the wind, twirling between the leaves, answered her.

"Kenshin ?!"

"Oro?"

"You don't look like you're here with me. What were you thinking about?"

"Sumimasen, Kaoru-dono..."

He willed himself to smile. Coming back to reality, in this place where plum and other floral scent were filling his nose, was each time a trial.

"This one... was trying to enjoy the calm, that he did."

"Mmh you're right, life can be so restless at the dojo... Wait, were you making fun of me?"

He put his hands up as an apology, deepening his grin.

"This one wouldn't dare."

"You better not, silly rurouni!"

Kaoru gave him a hundredfold smile, naturally illuminating the blue irises of her eyes, the same ones that had touched by their innocence almost a year ago the deeply buried heart of the samurai. The urge to caress her cheek briefly crossed Kenshin's mind, but he immediately chased away the nasty thought. On the other side of the shore, in the distance, they could hear children screaming while playing in the water. They were, after all, surrounded by other people.

The wanderer dipped his lips in his shôchû and then stood up, gnashing his teeth discreetly, feeling a slight pain crossing simultaneously knees and ankles. His joints were easily aching for some time.

 _ _Megumi was right...__

"I must admit," she continued, "it's a good thing Yahiko is starting to be a little more independent. He's becoming an adult now!"

 _ _And that leaves more time for both of us now__... completed the young kendoka inwardly.

These moments were so rare. From the time she had met Kenshin, between samurais looking for revenge, former assassins who planned to overthrow the government and the missions that the police trusted him with regularly, it was difficult for them to progress in their relationship. Ever since the former Ishin Shishi had agreed to definitely stay at the dojo instead of wandering, they had only begun to get closer. And the fact that she was hiring more and more students in the Kamiya Kasshin school wasn't exactly helping...

"I wonder... how will this story with Tsubame end?" she said with an amused smile.

He caught a petal twirling towards the ground.

"... Kenshin? Are you listening to me, or are you in the clouds again?"

"ORO?"

He laughed softly. To see her so happy, or even angry, still warmed his heart. To see her _alive_.

"This one thinks that Yahiko is grown enough to fend for himself, that he does..."

"You mean, even in the matters of the heart?"

He came to sit right next to her. Slightly closer than what the decorum of that time required.

"...sometimes, you have to let things happen on their own." the redhead added.

He intentionally brushed Kaoru's sleeve with one of his feather-like touch then sneaked his arm behind her neck. Putting a hand on his shoulder, he forced her brown head to come resting gently against his chest. He was so close that she could smell the sandalwood perfume of his hair, who helped by the wind, were rhythmically caressing her face like reeds would brush water on the shore.

"Let's rest like this a little, if you want it..."

Without releasing his embrace, Kenshin refilled a cup of shôchû and drank it quietly. Then closed his eyes. Coiled in his arms, Kaoru took precious advantage of this moment. Her soon-to-be husband had such a confidential nature that he usually barely touched her. And right now, she could almost hear his heart beat. After all that they had been through, they were finally beginning to enjoy happiness together...

How could things have gone wrong?

* * *

In the police station of an umpteenth district of Tokyo, Goro Fujita alias Hajime Saito, former captain of the fearsome 3rd battalion of Shinsengumi, defenders of ancient Kyoto, was about to receive a major task.

He had now operated for several years in the security of the new capital under an assumed name, his previous achievements having earned him a position of officer burdened -or gifted, depending on the point of view- with many responsibilities. But most of all, under this cover he was still applying Mibu's wolf motto, which allowed him to live according to his conscience.

 _Aku. Zoku. Zan._

Slay Evil Immediately. Wolves remains wolves, even hidden in Western uniform and holding an unholy cigarette.

"Well... I wonder where this whole mess will lead us..."

Today in the early morning he had received an alert from both Kyoto and Osaka Police Department, informing him of an ongoing case that according to them could also spread to the district of Old Edo. A serious business, at first glance. If help on this issue was requested throughout Japan, it probably deserved to be treated first and foremost.

"Pfff..."

Saito considered the voluminous and discouraging wad of mail with particular attention.

 _ _A lot of reading to come ...__

* * *

 ** _ **Next chapter :**_** First glimmers of evil

I made a fairly fast update, since the first two chapters are much shorter than the following ones. This story, quite long, will gradually increase in power, but its climax will not be watered down (that's a promise!) ;)

* * *

A few answers for the reviewers ^^+ :

Filipinagirl04 : you guessed right, the original story is in French ;) Think about how hard it is to translate japanese things like sessha, de gozaru, -dono/-san/-chan... In french as much as in english. For some of them I have found an equivalent in one language but not in the other, it is a real brain-teaser for me... XO

happyloveygirl : Hiko, dead? O,O He's such a powerful man all trough the story of RK (I mean he always looks like no one can ever beat him in this life), I cannot even imagine him dead... although, with a little writing effort, we could... mouahaha * evil grin *

Queen Emily the Diligent : thank you so much your kindness, I am always afraid that the writing could lose some meaning at the benefit of my poor translation so this helps me a lot ^^+

(I mean if you see something strange by reading, this could maybe just be an english mistake from me... * sweatdrops * )


	3. First glimmers of evil

**_**Lexicon:**_**

-chan: suffix used to designate children (Yahiko-chan could be translated roughly as "little Yahiko")

-Jou-chan: it is a way to address a woman younger than oneself with some lightness, this is how Sanosuke calls Kaoru

-Kitsune: vixen

-Boken: wooden training saber

-Maa maa: "well, well" (literally: like this like this)

-Yare yare : "better and better"

-Furoshiki: cloth used to pack objects using a ritual folding method, long used by Japanese to transport objects

-Saké: rice alcohol (note: there are practically as many different types of saké in Japan as there are wines in France ...)

-Futon: traditional Japanese bedding, a kind of thin mattress placed directly on the floor

-Makura: small pillow stuffed with buckwheat pods

-Shoji : sliding partition, with wooden frame and translucent paper

* * *

 _ ** _ **Chapter 3:**_**_ First glimmers of evil

* * *

It was one of spring's first sunny week in the new capital, after a fourth season which had proved to be labored that year. This morning, only the last sighs of winter's chills were still being felt, and the dew perched on budding leaves was sliding to the ground with the help of a slight wind.

Every inhabitant of the Kamiya dojo -including its brawler and its wanderer- was busy with its favorite task : Kenshin was doing the laundry, Kaoru was chasing her disciple through the yard, Yahiko was being chased by his assistant master, and Sanosuke aka the brawler was chewing obsolete remains of a fish carcass while waiting anxiously for mealtime.

"Phew ..."

The former Sekihotai let out a sigh, dusting his jacket with a lascivious gesture. His belly was clearly yelling famine.

"Hey Jou-chan, when ya're finished with the shoutin' match, could ya tell me if there's somethin' to eat 'round here?"

Sanosuke Sagara had the nasty habit of giving nicknames to most people who were hanging around him, as if calling someone by his first name suddenly risked causing him in an oh-so-fatal form of spontaneous combustion. So Kaoru was Jou-chan, Megumi was Kitsune, Saito had inherited of the wolf and Yahiko-CHAN was self-sufficient.

"Why you..."

Kaoru suddenly stopped her race to point a finger at the streetfigther.

"How dare you even speak of that?! Don't you know you can bring food and cook it by yourself like a grown man, instead of always complaining!? "

Her eyes spoke of hell's chasms and sulfurous vengeance. Sanosuke took a preventive step back, and Yahiko, glad that the attention was momentarily diverted from him, took this opportunity to move to a safe place – which happened to be in that case right behind Kenshin's back. He knew from experience that the situation could quickly deteriorate ...

"Maa maa do not argue," said the wanderer, pulling his hands out of the soapy water. "This one will take care of it as soon as he finishes the laundry, that he will."

Strangely enough, Himura was revealing in repetitive daily chores, as if to compensate for the chaos that had been his life so far. Except for a few intimate friends, most people who knew him back in the days of Bakumatsu did not understand that a former cold-blooded assassin, in this case a patriotic leader occupying a key position in the revolution, could be satisfied with such a routine.

 _ _A simple, normal family life... he has probably never known that before,__ thought Kaoru whose gaze softened at the sight of the samurai humbly hunched over the basin, sleeves rolled up, a patient smile on his face. The soapy bubbles were going up to his elbows and formed a frothy beard under the cheek where he had previously wiped his hand.

"I'm glad to know ya're the one making miso today, Kenshin," Sanosuke continued. "Haven't recovered yet from last time Jou-chan cooked and my guts literally tried to get out of my tummy!"

"What the hell..."

The young kendoka's eyes flashed instantly. Kenshin could have sworn he saw drool running down her chin.

"... I feed you for FREE and that's all you have to s-"

"Is tha' a reason for trying to poison me ?!" the accused rebuked, pointing at her too (yes, Sanosuke sometimes had suicidal tendencies).

"It's true that you aren't spoiled by nature busu ; as thin as a plate and unable to bake anything edible... "Yahiko rectified, feeling compelled to place a comment to calm the situation, always bravely sheltered behind the wanderer.

"A little respect for your master! RHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA "

Thus Kenshin -or rather his face- received a boken, two stools, five bowls, and three daikons. His defence resulted in :

"Orororororooooo ..."

"Kenshin, I'm so sorry!"

Kaoru realized too late that the red-collapsed form on the floor was innocent, and rushed to his side.

"Yare yare," said Kenshin, rubbing his head, "This one is fine, Kaoru-dono."

The samurai could have easily dodged each of her projectiles, even catching them flying and sending them back in one movement. The stool by the way, properly launched, could have made a nice whiplash injury ... But Kenshin was uncomfortable with showing his talents of former assassin, acquired in a context as painful as macabre, nor to use his incredible capacities in a harmless environment that did not require it. Note also that Kaoru was a proud master of kendo who did not deserve in the eyes of the wanderer to be humiliated or discouraged by such behavior. Above all, the mere idea that his beloved might one day be afraid of him or feel physically threatened, and therefore begin to act cautiously around him, was enough to make him feel nauseous.

As he got up, he did not fail to _accidentally_ brush Kaoru's hand, whose face immediately went through six distinct shades of scarlet. The two lovers got up as quickly as possible, spending the next few minutes trying not to look clumsy.

A classic day, in other words.

A little too much maybe...

"...Excuse me?"

All heads turned towards the entrance gate of the dojo where a young man was standing, his black hair strictly brushed, dressed in a navy uniform trimmed with white at the ends of the sleeves. It was cut short at the level of legs, revealing sober satin shoes on which were mirroring perfectly the metal sheath of his saber.

"Can I help you?"

The mistress of the dojo approached the newcomer, who did politely salute in return.

"Agent Kyosuke, I wish to see Himura-san," he informed, "I have a letter from Officer Fujita to give him."

"If you look for him, this one is here," The wanderer instinctively took place between Kaoru and the stranger before greeting him quickly, taking the paper directly from his hands.

"So what does it say? "asked Yahiko, who had instantly hurried to join the three adults.

"It's a letter from Saito..." Himura mumbled as he was decrypting the katakana lines. He did not answer more, focused on reading the document.

"Huh, that's all...? Don't keep the information for you!"

While the unique pupil of Kamiya Kasshin was starting the well-known dance of 'plz-tell-me-I-need-to-know' and Sanosuke was discreetly asking the postman if he did not have some money to lend him before realizing at the same time that he was instead a policeman, Kaoru was watching closely the samurai whose dorsal muscles had momentarily tensed.

"Can I see it...?" She said, gently slipping her head over his shoulder.

He crushed the paper in his hands.

"...What's the matter?"

The expression on Kenshin's face froze, then a cautious smile crawled across it.

"Saito asks this one for help on a mission."

"Well?"

"This one does not really know what it is for now. We'll see that later, that we will," he said, crouching again in front of the wet basin." Agent Kyosuke, please convey to Officer Fujita that he can count on this one's help. "

"Understood, Mr Himura. He will be delighted to hear that. "

With that, the policeman withdrew and the wanderer resumed its work, showing obvious attention on the cleaning of a hakama, returning exactly where he had stopped it before being interrupted by all this fuss. His mind, however, never really returned to the task at hand.

* * *

Seijuro Hiko completed his furoshiki in no time.

A spare outfit, his purse, equipment to sharpen his katana if necessary and of course his faithful jar of saké hanging on his belt. Nothing else was needed to cruise the roads. Of pragmatic nature, the master never cared about such insignificant material details.

Honestly, he was far from pleased to go on another trip. The mere thought of confronting this stinking, swarming and uneducated mass that the people outside his forest were was enough to give the hermit heartburn. Unlike his disciple who had wandered most of his life, Seijuro was rarely leaving his mountain. As for that terrible intuition that he'd had about him... Hiko still did not understand what that meant, but after spending several days running around in his hut trying to solve the impossible equation, he had reluctantly resolved to leave. In almost forty years his instinct had never deceived him.

In haste, the thirteenth master of Hiten Mitsurugi began his journey to Tokyo ...

* * *

In the middle of the night Kaoru was awakened by moans-like noises. Enjoying busy days, it was rare for Kamiya Kasshin's master to be a light sleeper.

 _What the...?_

It was almost three o'clock in the morning and the neighborhood's streets were theoretically empty at this hour. As she focused on her hearing, she had the feeling that they were coming from the place where the samurai slept. Had he shouted so loudly as to pull her out of her sleep? Or was her audition playing tricks on her?

 _Whatever... I cannot take the risk of something happening to Kenshin._

Rather than thinking about this subject blindly, she decided to endure the coldness of the night, and stood up. The young kendoka feverishly put on her yukata before lighting a candle of wax, then discretely opened the next room's door...

Curled up on the edge of the futon, makura ejected on the floor, Kenshin was twisting around furiously in his bed. The cover was unstructured to the point of discovering his torso, riddled with scars. Although unconscious, the wanderer was aimlessly opening and closing his lips, as if talking to the wooden ground. And, to her surprise, he did not seem to be aware of her presence at all this time. She kept her ears open.

"Tomoe..."

His face was fully contracted.

 _ _... He's speaking in his sleep?__

"Tomoe"

His arms were moving in all directions. He turned his head again, his features marred by the expression of intense pain. The kendo teacher was watching him with a mix of astonishment and horror.

"K-Ka ... o ... ru ..."

Grabbing his skull in his hands, he almost tore a bunch of red hair with his grip. The young woman felt her heart tighten.

 _Is he dreaming of our deaths...?_

Her decision was made... She entered the room, knelt beside him and put a hand on his shoulder. He was cold but covered in sweat.

"Kenshin. I'm here, "she whispered," I'm fine ... "

The wanderer did not react, his eyelids still vigorously closed.

"I'm here," she continued, shaking him slightly.

"No..."

He was biting his lips so hard that a discrete trickle of blood escaped from them.

"Nooooooo ..."

 _ _He doesn't hear me ...__

All the while struggling he continued to moan, contracting his muscles at a strenuous pace. Despite the repeated words and gestures of the young woman, nothing was enough to wake him up. Kaoru continued for a few minutes before giving up.

 _ _It's no use. He's gone too far ...__

She didn't want to shake him too badly either. The wanderer needed rest. Reluctantly, she closed the shoji of the room and silently went back to her own bed. Falling anew into the arms of Morpheus was hard enough that night, for the young woman was saddened to see the former Ishin Shishi still fighting the endless demons of his past. He would never tell her about those in the morning, but she suspected his nightmares to be much more frequent than what they actually could see...

The samurai, for his part, continued to struggle violently against his invisible enemies. After a few minutes, he finally seized the guard of his sword, which contact was frozen.

"NO!"

Kenshin awoke abruptly. His whole body was shaking. Tears were running down his cheeks and his heart was beating wildly. Only the silence and the cold twilight of the night surrounded him, but his mind was still engulfed in the long-winded abyss of his memory. He took several minutes to realize that he was just in his room. And that all this was only a vision.

He waited until his body stopped shaking. Let the tears stop flowing. He dropped his blanket, took his katana and stood up.

Enough sleep for this night.

* * *

Kenshin entered the police officer's desk directly without being announced, causing a panic attack to the receptionist he had greeted nonetheless. The tyrannical Goro Fujita was particularly meticulous about procedures, and that included the one about never disturbing him without warning.

Mibu's wolf and former patriot were staring at each other.

"Saito."

"Himura."

"I received your letter."

"Well, that'll save me a boring speech."

"Tell this one the facts."

When they were both alone, their relationship was fundamentally different. Patience and politeness were out of place between former adversaries who had exchanged more saber blows than greetings.

"You're even more irritable than usual Battosai ..."

The former Shinsengumi silently noted the rings under the indigo eyes of the redhead. He grabbed a large blue binder resting on his desk, from which ink-filled leaves were partly coming out. And began to peel them...

"The facts, Saito," repeated the wanderer.

"You are therefore aware that the police of Tokyo, Kyoto and even Osaka are investigating a large-scale case of disappearance ..."

He took out a document, where colorless portraits were drawn.

"Children, precisely."

Himura winced.

"Hm. And what do you expect from me, exactly?"

"Nothing."

Saito took a breath from his cigarette. The wanderer was nervously touching the handle of his weapon.

"Nothing so far, I just want you to keep wide-open eyes around you."

"This one is already doing so."

"...And to report any suspicious behavior to me," the officer finished.

Himura nodded. The officer put the bundle down carefully. Even sorting out the news sent by Kyoto forces had asked him a considerable amount of time.

"When I'll have a need for you to intervene, I'll call you back," Saito concluded, turning his back to the window. "For now, I don't have any more information."

The wanderer did not need to be asked twice.

"Understood, this one does not like this kind of case either."

* * *

 _ ** _ **Next chapter :**_**_ About ceramists and housekeepers

* * *

Queen Emily the Diligent : very good advice, I have changed that! Tell me if you see anything suspicious ;)


	4. About ceramists and housekeepers

****Lexicon:****

 _Gomenasai:_ forgive me

 _Kami-sama:_ my God

 _Izakaya:_ small bar with an intimate atmosphere where you can eat and drink until late hours

 _Baka:_ silly

 _Arigato:_ thank you

 _Setta:_ rice straw sandals

 _Shinai:_ bamboo training weapon

* * *

 _ _ **Chapter 4:**__ About Ceramists and Housekeepers

* * *

Sitting in seiza at the end of the training room so as not to disturb the endless flow of shinai, the wanderer was watching attentively the activity under his eyes. Kaoru was training students of Maekawa dojo in addition to her own. As a result Yahiko was redoubling of effort, proud of his master's teachings and eager to show his technical superiority against the opposing school. Sweat, quick gestures and kiai cries filled the air.

Giving lessons for another dojo allowed the young kendoka to support as much as possible the needs of the house, helped in this task by her only disciple, who although unable to pay for his lessons participated in living together by bringing a little money from his work at the Akabeko. Sanosuke, on his side, sometimes helped as a docker at Yokohama Port, his imposing physique allowing him to carry heavy loads. Thanks to this livelihood he was able to finance things like his nocturnal escapades. Above that, he had recently developed a strange fascination for ships coming back from abroad, and all the stories of unknown countries swimming with them...

Only Kenshin, unemployed, was out of step compared to his young companions.

Having always experienced poverty as a child and then wandered for more than 10 years as a penniless and homeless wanderer did not do anything to help things. He had lived so long without thinking about the next day, indifferent to the fact that his own death could happen from one moment to another, that changing his way of life now that he had settled at Kamiya dojo was very difficult. In fact, he had to relearn everything, having absolutely no personal reference of standard family life. Thus, if surviving had become one of his specialties, money remained a mysterious data for him, since absent during most of his existence. As a result, he had trouble caring for it, associating it personally neither with need nor with happiness.

Kaoru seemed to understand this, since she never pushed him in that direction, and for this he was secretly grateful to her. He had tried to look into it, but ... what could he do? His level of writing and reading was barely passable and he had only learned the art of the katana, developed more particularly that of murder, a perfectly useless competence in this new Meiji era he had sweated blood and tears to build. He did not want to transmit the Hiten Mitsurugi (his own youthful failure regarding the values that his teacher wanted to teach him was damaging enough), and the professions of policeman or bodyguard had proven to be a formidable stimulant for his innate assassin reflexes that he desperately tried to bury. Not to mention the fact that he did not like to go away of the dojo for a long time after the traumatic incident of Enishi, and that sometime, his body began to make him pay for all of his swordsmanship years...

 _ _Finally, this one might not be suitable for this new era ...__

He focused his gaze again on the young students before him, and on the life that emerged from them. Basically it did not matter to him to be obsolete, if these people could know the happiness of a peaceful life. That was the reason he had fought for and would fight again.

Kaoru was in the center of the room, and she was performing a series of kata demonstrations for her students. She was lifting her shinai at full speed, hitting her arms and hips in different directions, her feet resting each time in very particular points on the ground. These were traditionally rigorously codified exercises where each gesture mattered.

Although he had initially come to see her out of sheer curiosity when he arrived at the dojo, Kenshin's eyes had become much less innocent since he had begun to develop feelings for her. Because if the young woman was just emerging from adolescence, his own adult life was already well under way, and his body was often painfully reminding him of that... which had earned him to this day many cold water buckets, meditation sessions and other nocturnal baths. Worse, since he had started courting her without allowing himself to touch her, training sessions had literally turned to torture. To see her waving fiercely in this low necked man's outfit, sometimes revealing her tightly bandaged chest, was enough to bring his blood on fire. Moreover, her incredible agility made him wonder what kind of acrobatic positions they could u... -Kenshin took a deep, long breath.

 _ _This one will definitely have to go back to the river ...__

Chasing these ideas did put his self-control yet strong at severe test. Himura was also careful not to stare at the young kendoka too intensely, for fear of frightening her with the ardor of his thoughts. Concealment was after all a specialty among assassins. Kaoru was executing the movements with precision, causing her slim yet robust body to be covered with a thin layer of sweat, which slid down her neck and lower.

 _ _The river, the cold river ...__

While Kenshin was struggling internally, all the students seemed captivated by the current demonstration. The master of Kamiya Kasshin performed kendo with a grace and tenacity inherited from her father. All except a boy who was standing aside, a pout on his face, apparently bored by all fo this.

She seemed to have noticed it since it was to him that she spoke first.

"Gyôsei, come to reproduce the exercise, I will mime your partner"

" Why me?" He replied, exaggerating his grimace.

 _ _He doesn't seem to want to work this morning,__ his master noted irritably.

"You're lucky she's the one taking care of you," Yahiko replied, waving his shinai. If you don't want to do any more katas, I'll be happy to be your opponent and kick your ass, idiot! "

If slackers were people of the worst kind for the brave first Kamiya Kasshin disciple, men who were not interested in martial arts were just downright aliens.

"Stop arguing, boys!" Kaoru continued without losing her concentration. "Come on Gyôsei, put yourself in position. "

The young man reluctantly complied. He began to realize his series of movement awkwardly, the assistant master reproducing them identically in front of him, then quickly lost patience. Kaoru countered every shot, but Gyôsei became more and more abrupt and rough in his gestures. After a while, clearly angry at having been put to work and ridiculing himself in front of his classmates, he aimed a shoot that was not intended in the choreography directly at his teacher's ribs. The young woman, although surprised, saw his attempt and narrowly dodged him, but the aggressive gesture did not go unnoticed by the redhead sitting in the back of the room, who had suddenly raised his head.

"Well," Kaoru noted, "you still lack coordination ..."

"Pfff ... what's the use of learning these choreographies? It's not even a real fight! "

"It's you who are the real moron! argued Yahiko who was regretting not having previously kicked the damn boy's ass "If you cannot even master that you'll never be able to fight! These are the basics, the ba-si-cs! "

The two boys stared at each other fiercely. Meanwhile, the wanderer had risen from the corner of the room, unbeknownst to everyone.

"Gyôsei, right?" He said with a smile. "You do not seem to have really grasped the concept of kata. "

" ...What do you mean? "

 _ _Why does it matter to him? If even the housekeeper of the dojo comes to annoy me now!__ Gyôsei already had no desire to come to class, only obeying the order of his parents, but if in addition everyone fell on him ...

"That stroke at the ribs was not in the demonstration. "

The boy clenched his teeth, displeased that his little hanky-panky was noticed.

"So what... ? "

"This one will be your partner. "

Without waiting for his answer, the samurai grabbed a training sword hanging from the wall. Gyôsei looked at him with a hint of apprehension. He had never noticed how callused his hands were, nor that his usually high-pitched, even feminine voice could become so low. Not to mention, did he not have a sword hung on his hip? The impulsive boy was suddenly intimidated by this scarred man with tawny hair, who had suddenly decided to take part in their training...He had been coming at the Kamiya dojo for some time now and from memory this guy was only satisfied to observe them without speaking, occasionally smiling in a honeyed or even silly way. If only he had been told that this man could do something other than cooking or washing laundry...

"Are you sure, Kenshin?" The young kendoka wondered. "It's really not worth it ..."

 _ _This is the first time he ever gets involved in one of my classes! He has never accepted to train with me, or even to give advice to Yahiko before...__

"This one insists. "

He put himself in position immediately, to everyone's surprise. The students had spontaneously formed a small circular group around them, curious to see the abilities of the redhead who lived with their master. As for Kaoru, she was as shocked as her students.

"Hajime! "

His voice was definitely not honeyed, and Gyosei felt for a moment the dark authority of a powerful ki. He resumed his kata, this time reproducing it very carefully. The wanderer dodged all his blows without any difficulty, not bothering to lift his shinai or even change the position of his body. Then, half-way through the exercise, at the exact moment when he had previously tried to hit the kendoka at her ribs, the samurai vigorously pressed his foot between the boy's and mowed his leg with a dry gesture. Gyôsei crashed face down at full speed.

"Kenshin!" Kaoru immediately glared daggers at him.

The boy got up with difficulty, surprised at his sudden fall, having seen absolutely nothing. He would probably be rewarded later by a good bump on the head.

"Hey, that -that was not planned!" He groaned, rubbing his chin where a small hematoma was already forming.

"You deserved it!" Replied Yahiko, openly laughing. He, too, had not missed the gesture tempted against his master just now.

"A kenjutsuka must be ready for any eventuality. "The redhead calmly replied, hanging up the shinai on the wall. "That's why it is helpful to be focused on any exercise, as basic as it appears. "

The former Master of the Kamiya Kasshin gave him a complicit but accusing look.

 _ _He did it on purpose ...__

She came near the samurai, partly amused by his possessive reaction and partly annoyed by his hint of authority and the punitive gesture that followed against her disciple.

"Kenshin," she murmured, "I'm able to correct my own students by myself. "

"This one knows, that he does. "

"Don't try to play the innocent with me..."

"Oro? Please forgive me, Kaoru-dono. This one will resume cleaning." He said, scratching his head, adopting a resilient posture. Challenging a kendo teacher in her own school was never a good idea.

"You'd better! "

The class then resumed to a normal rhythm, and the pupils of the Maekawa dojo as much as the one of the Kamiya dojo, redoubled their ardor in the execution of their katas. Definitively, Gyôsei would be wary of housekeepers.

* * *

Despite the recent building of a railroad between the two cities, the Tôkaidô road, more than 500 kilometers long, linking Kyoto to Tokyo in more than 50 relays - without forgetting Osaka and Kobe - was still very popular, mostly because modest people did not have enough money to buy a train ticket. It was dotted with thriving inns and abandoned checkpoints since the end of the Meiji era and the reunification of modern Japan. Its creation a long time ago had allowed the trade to prosper all along the coastal path, this axis having remained several centuries during the most traveled of Japan.

About two weeks of travel were needed to cross this road on foot without horse or palanquin, ridiculous and useless attributes in the eyes of the thirteenth master of the Hiten Mitsurugi, but by rushing only ten days would be necessary for the man to complete the journey. To have large legs and a developed musculature, fruits of a rigorous training for decades, had proved useful in many situations.

 _ _And the faster I will go, the faster I will get rid of this crowd ...__

But while Hiko was only barely getting close to Kusatsu, second stop of the above-mentioned route, his sharp hearing suddenly detected the cry of a young boy, as if smothered by ...

 _ _...Leaves?__

He moved instinctively towards a tree-lined massif at the entrance to the village. Above a Scots pine, half masked by thorny branches at almost 15 meters high, a small body was leaning dangerously towards the void.

"Help!"

"... what's your name, kid?" Hiko shouted from the bottom of the tree, very curious to know the name of the one who'd had the imbecility to climb higher than he knew how to get off.

"Toshiro, but ... HELP ME FINALLY! I'M GONNA FALL!"

The boy was desperately clinging at a medium-sized branch, which was already emitting dangerous crackling sounds. He was covered with green goads. Hiko found the scene in front of his eyes rather funny.

"Patience, kid, you don't have to be afraid when I'm right below you."

"Huh?"

With that, the master jumped several meters high, lifting the dust at his feet to land on a branch halfway from the child. He quickly made his way towards him, clutching the trunk with dexterity. Then came a moment when it was too thin to support his weight, and Hiko stopped his progress.

"Let yourself fall."

"No, I can't ..."

"Let yourself go, fool, I told you I was right below!"

"HUWAAAAAH"

The young boy did not have to execute the said move because the branch that supported him suddenly yielded, obliging the master to throw himself immediately in the emptiness to catch him. They landed on the ground with a crash but no damage, since Seijuro held the boy in his arms with a perfect squatting position. You don't become thirteenth master of Hiten Mitsurugi for nothing, see.

He laid the child on the ground and dusted his coat disdainfully.

"So, Toshiro... what kind of stupid reason did cross your mind to have you climbing on a tree ten times higher than you?"

 _ _Not that I really care about it...__

Toshiro waited a few moments to regain his breath and his balance, then devoured with an indescribable intense gaze the imposing brown man in a white cape that had so spectacularly restrained his fall.

"It's my dog, Mochi... He ran away several weeks ago, and since then we've been staying at the hostel in order to find him ..."

The boy's face darkened sadly. From Hiko's point of view, he was only going to babycry.

 _ _They must have money to afford themselves to be stuck here for so long, just for an animal ... I guess these are the benefits of this carefree Meiji era.__

"..You know, everyone loves him at home, he's part of our family. I thought climbing up this tree would give me a better view of the valley ..."

"It was a silly idea."

"He was scared by that damn raven!" continued the boy, as if to defend himself. "Mochi goes crazy every time he sees one ; you see, a bird attacked him when he was a puppy, and since then he has always been afraid of it!"

 _ _Stupid master, stupid dog ...__

"I did not ask you for so much information ..." Hiko pointed out, his annoyance growing.

Toshiro suddenly looked up at his savior.

"Oh, I'm so rude ... You helped me, and I don't even know your name?"

"Niitsu Kakunoshin ... I'm a potter."

Even to a child, Seijuro Hiko did not reveal his true identity. Never. Precaution of thirteenth Hiten Mitsurugi's master, a school that had survived for several centuries with only one disciple and one name.

"Po ... potter?"

Toshiro could not believe his ears. This man was so muscular and agile ... Potters suddenly rose high in his esteem.

"Please come to the inn with me. My parents and my little sister are there and my father is an art dealer, he will surely give you money to thank you."

"That's nice, kid, but I'm in a hurry."

Hiko had no desire to hang out in this rotten shed, let alone meet other people.

"Just be careful next time."

"Yes sir!"

Toshiro greeted the great ceramist very low, who went on his way as quickly as possible, silently muttering against reckless kids climbing the trees and wasting his time. One stupid apprentice was enough.

* * *

Saito was fuming. They had a lot of trouble collecting data on this case, and he still had no tangible track. During these last weeks the agents deployed to the field had returned once again with shreds of information without concrete link to each other. Children were disappearing, mainly in remote villages and poor areas of Japan. In most cases they were orphans, making it hard to identify and even account for them. Nobody claimed their bodies, and few people cared about them.

 _ _The number of disappearances is probably wildly underestimated ...__

He took a puff from his cigarette. A dirty habit inherited from Westerners.

 _ _They may simply have died of starvation and their corpses would have been left aside in the absence of a loved one to bury them.__

Unfortunately, some disappearances were oddly localized. And Saito did not believe in coincidences.

 _ _What use would a group of kids without connection be?__

This case did not make any sense. He was turning that same question again and again in his mind, spinning impatiently around his desk. Outside his window, afar in his visual field a little girl was holding a puppy on a leash. An Akita, probably, judging by its already imposing size despite its young age. It was then that he was wandering on this innocuous reflection that an unhealthy idea began to germinate in his mind...

 _ _...A human trafficking?__

* * *

They were roaming into the streets of former Edo, still noisy despite the late hour. One of the pleasant changes of this new era, in comparison with the desperately empty alleys of Kyoto as soon as the day was off during Bakumatsu, noted the wanderer. Night had fallen and the red glow of Izakaya's lanterns alternated with the fleeting flashes of candles entrenched inside the intimate houses of wood and clay. Their path consisted of wide, animated passages as much as of narrow lanes, where the single shadow of the crescent moon gave the high stone walls an almost threatening look. The brawler had his hands in his pockets and was chatting about futile things on the way : this cuttie here had pretty eyes, the fish dealer there yet open rather looked like he was selling junk... He was smiling while walking, obviously relaxed, stretching his long legs covered with badly trimmed trousers to the front. The other man, smaller and older, remained silent most of the time, but was following him at a good pace. With his face somewhat lowered, only the slight wind that sometimes played among its red strands could discover his deep azure eyes.

It had become one of their rituals. Strange, how a friendship can be forged between two persons of a different generation, bound by a visceral fighting instinct and the trials that life had put in their path. Going out in such a regular basis was granting them with privileged moments between friends, far from the sometimes suffocating female agitation of the dojo where the samurai lived.

"... Hey, are ya even listenin' to me when I speak?"

He raised his head, suddenly thrown out of his thoughts.

"Gomenasai Sanosuke..."

The samurai let his words linger in the fresh air of spring. His eyes were still dark.

 _ _Kenshin doesn't seem like himself tonight... my job to cheer him up!__

Sanosuke Sagara logically decided to take his mind off the brooding by using the best way he knew, a method that he believed had been proven in any age and any individual.

"Well, whaddya think about givin' a good hit into a woman tonight?"

"ORO?"

The wanderer gave him a meaningful, almost comical glare.

"This one does not value violence against women." he said seriously.

"Oh my, you're so straight, Kenshin! Relax a little!" He gave him a big pat on the back. "I only meant to have sex with a woman, if ya see what I'm talkin' about!"

"Oro? This one still does not see the interest, that he does." The samurai blushed discreetly, but seemed however to consider the proposition for brief a moment. "Besides, Kaoru-dono would be furious ..."

"Kami-sama, how can ya be so austere... Okay, let's have a drink instead!"

They were approaching a place with warmer vibes. Sanosuke went on with an exaggerated cheering tone :

"This spot will be perfect!"

He lowered his head and lifted the entrance's curtain of the small building which seemed almost out of time. The atmosphere was more hectic inside than outside - not to mention noisy. As soon as they had taken their seats near a window, the two buddies were knocking back fermented rice beverage shots together, one of the rare local alcohol on this isolated island of the Far East.

"Ya don't speak much tonight." He corrected himself. "I mean, ya're chattin' even less than usual."

The redhead sighed, annoyed by this display of hidden questions, before swallowing his saké.

"Sano... This one is just a bit tired, that's all."

With an absent gesture he handed the cup to his friend anew.

"I'm already used to do most of the talkin'," he continued, serving him, "but now that's a one-way dialogue."

Without paying more attention to his remarks, Kenshin emptied this new cup in one gulp, his cerulean gaze still lost on the outside agitation. Sanosuke stared at him, dumbfounded.

"And ya have a hellish thirst tonight, nothin' to compare with that fuckin' restrained behavior ya have with Jou-chan or the others."

"Ah, sorry..." He scratched the back of his head and forced a smile as he turned back to his friend.

"Give up the excuses, these drink're on me for once;" he smiled, elbowing the red-haired, "Want another?"

"Huh, I guess..."

He hesitated, then handed his glass again. It was like any other promptly emptied, but his attention never truly returned to the current conversation.

Sanosuke was peering at him silently. He knew that if the wanderer did not want to talk he would get absolutely nothing from him. This man could have a head harder than steel and was naturally not eager to confide. Although it was annoying him strongly (he was officially impatient), he had learned over years to get the best of it : it was better to spend a good time together and leave those problems until later on when he would feel ready to speak - if such a moment ever existed in this life. That's why he maintained the conversation on his own, Kenshin just nodding now and again.

The smell of saké was surrounding the small building enclosed between two other inns. Its wooden tables, worn but friendly, were covered with sticky and odorous traces resulting from the strong passage of individuals throughout the day. The evening continued until numerous bottles were emptied. Nothing unusual for the fighter accustomed to this kind of trip, but much more unnatural for his companion who appreciated so much self-control. He had swallowed the majority of the drinks served without really paying attention, under the half-amused eye of his friend.

 _ _Yep, definitely, somethin's wrong.__

"... ya better stop here, don't ya think?"

It did not sound like the brawler at all to restrain others' consumption, but something didn't seem right in the samurai's behavior tonight, and he did not like it.

"Hmm." Kenshin put his glass down, awkwardly dropping his elbow on the table. "Let's go."

He got up with the help of his left arm and crossed the door, head bowed.

Sanosuke was following him closely. The samurai had a slightly feverish and unsteady walk. For an innocent eye his balance would seem perfectly normal, but for the trained eye of someone who knew the precise and agile moves of the fighter like the back of his hand, there was no doubt about it : he was dead drunk.

Sanosuke took place at his side while discreetly positioning himself in the background to be able to catch him in case of fall.

"I never saw ya drink this much..."

"Gomenasai" he mumbled

"Stop apologizing all the time, it's becomin' really annoyin' t-"

The wanderer suddenly lost his balance, stumbling on a misplaced pebble. Sanosuke narrowly caught him by placing his arm under his belly.

"Baka, I'll take you back to the dojo."

"... Arigato, S-Sano"

The fighter put his arms around his friend's shoulders, and while supporting most of his weight, walked on the pavement carefully. The wind that had gotten colder by now was playing melody against the surrounding silence, between the leaves of trees barely lit by the nocturnal star. They stopped several times on the way so that the redhead could empty the contents of his stomach, implicitly helped by his friend to stabilize him. As he watched the samurai folded in half, his hair stuck to his face, Sanosuke was thoughtful.

No more words were exchanged that night between the two men. Only the sound of occasional regurgitation and settas hitting the ground punctuated their march.

* * *

 _ _ **Next chapter :**__ Enemy of my enemy


	5. Enemy of my enemy

**_**Lexicon:**_**

Kuso: shit

Engawa: wooden floor strip usually suspended and located just in front of the window or shutters of rooms in traditional Japanese houses, a kind of small terrace around the house

Mochis: pastry consisting of a ball of rice flour dough and matcha (green tea powder) topped with sweet red bean paste

Urajiro: whitish hairs on the lateral faces of the snout and on the cheeks, under the jaw, throat, chest and belly, on the underside of the tail and on the inner side of the limbs.

Ahou: idiot, idiot

Daruma: small painted ovoid figurines that can be used as a lucky charm

Kokeshi: Japanese dolls

* * *

 ** _ _ **Chapter 5:**__** Enemy of my enemy

* * *

The Oguni Clinic consisted of only three rooms at ground floor: an entrance hall where patients waiting for a diagnosis were grouped together, a small examination chamber where those requiring extra care could lye down, and a last room without window which served as storage for most of the equipment they used. If it was sufficient to treat the neighborhood's inhabitants most of the time, it quickly reached saturation during epidemics, and patients were then redirected as much as possible to Matsuzawa hospital.

Dr. Gensai's office was upstairs, far from the hustle and bustle, and it looked more like a library than a doctor's desk. A very old and messy library to say the least.

 _ _...just how can he find his own things in there?__

From wraps of papers incoherently issuing of yellowed books, to dusty formalin jars containing as much various human organs than unidentified intestinal worms, nothing resembled in any way to the formula she had come for. And none of these horrors was arranged according to a semblance of logic.

"That's a real museum ..."

Megumi Takani grumbled under her breath, pushing back drawings of almost obscene anatomical patterns piled on the desk.

 _ _I can't believe he's a doctor...__

Old Dr. Gensai was a man of experience, but as he grew in age he became disordered and sometimes lost his memory. To be honest, since the death of his wife several years ago, he had secretly abandoned all idea of classification. And passed seventy years, it was impossible to ask him to change his way of life. His children having followed a path different from his own and his two granddaughters being too young to enter studies, he had one day decided to transmit his knowledge to the beautiful Takani. Who, unlike him, was particularly meticulous and demanding...

 _ _A clinic must be clean... And shipshape!__

Megumi was still deeply grateful for the second chance he had given her. To care for people was her way of being forgiven for having them poisoned for a time under the threat of the maggoty industrialist Kanryû Takeda. Because of her background in drug business, she was officially appointed to carry out most of the preparations in the small clinic... which brought her directly to this office, seeking the recipe for a Thai herbal balm, to treat the wrist of a wellknown recalcitrant patient...

She lifted the same pile of books for the tenth time. A flying sheet came off, wedged between two covers.

 _ _Ah, there it is! Now, to recover the ingredients ...__

The small storage room on the ground floor was not better off, because on the wooden cabinets tight to each other figured a shapeless heap of medicinal herbs, essential oils, bandages and other catgut sutures... With time's help, Dr. Gensai had accumulated a real pharmacopoeia. Almost all preparations known in Asia were there, the lucky ones had their names on the container, others did not even have labels, and certainly none of them had an expiration date. Megumi had learned to identify them with bare eye. She was scanning the shelves, candle in hand...

"I can barely see anything in this cavern ...!"

She had tried several times to tidy up this place, but the old doctor seemed to have an innate talent for putting things back in disorder. Plus, he had kindly meant to her that he did not really appreciate for someone to try to change his habits (and seemed incredibly oriented in his own mess), which led her to give up on that subject. At least for now.

"Beeswax... Ok. Resin of Styrax benzoin ..."

She leaned forward to grab a small box high behind a pile of jars.

"...Ok! "

The young doctor gave herself a satisfied smile.

"Everything will be ready for Sanosuke's consultation!"

* * *

"Here it is!"

Suzume pulled her older sister by the sleeve, extending her other arm towards the ground. A sturdy little dog covered with earth stood was prostrated under the dojo's engawa. From the outside, only two eyes and a truffle were seen lost in a mass that could be defined as brownish and dirty, though Ayame and Suzume, with their low height, had no difficulty in distinguishing it.

"Look at his nose!" she laughed. "It's just like the funny fruit Tae showed us the other day!"

"Which fruit?" completed his little sister.

"The one that's all pink and round!"

Yahiko was watching the little girls' ride with amusement.

"Ah, you mean ... lychee?"

Regularly working since several months at the Akabeko, the kendoka apprentice remembered of a strange Chinese fruit Tae had recently added to her menu. His outward appearance had seemed odd to him, with its small salmon colored spicules, but its flesh had been tender and sweet. Tsubame was particularly pleased by its taste.

"Yes, that's it, let's call him Lychee!"

"But ?! That's a ridiculous name, this word is only meant for foodstuff!" Yahiko was kindly surprised at their malice. "And who says you'll keep it?"

"Lyychee Lyychee!" repeated the two children aloud.

The little dog came out of his hiding place and came to lick the outstretched hand of one of the girls. There was sugar remaining from mochis she had eaten at dessert this afternoon. She and her sister laughed while caressing him avidly, delighted of the contact with the animal.

"This one thinks he's hungry," the samurai commented as he passed the engawa's threshold.

The canine jumped on the spot. He had not felt this human come. Besides, no matter how much he sniffed and scrutinized his smiling face, he was unable to determine whether he was hostile or not. Instinctively, he took a few steps back.

Kenshin put down at his feet the laundry basin he was holding and meticulously observed the animal.

"He looks like a shiba-inu ..."

"We've seen less and less of them since they started bringing dogs from the mainland," Yahiko commented.

The recently named Lychee suddenly began to scream under the effect of the girl's hands that tickled him again, waving his tail happily. After several days of wandering, he was happy to find people who were finally paying attention to him.

"... what's all this fuss about?!"

Kamiya Kasshin's master came out of the dojo where she was practicing, bokken in hand, alerted by the barking. Two little triangular brown eyes were staring at the young kendoka, and it was love at first sight.

"His name is Lychee, can we keep him here please? Grandpa will not want an animal, he says it brings diseases!"

After a quick analysis of the canine, Kaoru deduced that he was thin, that his bristly hairs had become almost brown with dirt, but most of all... that he was looking at her as if she were his own mother. A feeling of attachment invaded her instantly.

"Hmm... We can't leave him like that anyway, he seems hungry and he reminds me of you when you arrived, Yahiko ..."

"What ?!"

"Well, you were dirty and starving" the master added as obvious.

"Did you see at least that I was not an animal, busu?!"

"Heey, you two 're arguing already?" exclaimed the former Sekihotai, passing the threshold of the gate, waving his hand. "And why is there such a crowd here?"

Sanosuke stared at the mass of red hairs in front of him. Lychee stared at the mass of brown hair bristling over the man's head in front of him. And instantly decided that his behavior was inhospitable, not to say harmful.

"What is THIS, exactly?"

"Say hello to Lychee," Ayame said with undisguised pride.

"He's messy..." he said pointing to the animal with a finger, openly disgusted

"This one thinks he needs a good cleaning, that he does..." he smiled. "What brings you here, Sanosuke?"

"Oh, barely nothing!" I was heading to the Oguni Clinic, 'guess I just wanted to say you hello on the way... and see if there was anything to ea- "

The streetfighter did not finish his sentence, feeling a hot liquid run down his leg. The smell of ammonia came right after.

"Oro?"

"Tha dirty bastard pissed on me!"

Yahiko and his assistant master immediately went into a fit of laughter, while Sanosuke was shaking his leg violently, on the verge of sticking the animal a hell kick he would remember all his life.

"I can't believe he just did that! I'm gonna make him understand right away who's the master here!"

He tried furiously to grab the dog with his hands, but this one fled again quickly under the engawa.

"Kuso, I can't catch it!"

"Sanooooooo" cried the two little girls immediately.

"Sanosuke, calm down ..." Kenshin went on, placing himself between the streetfighter and the animal, hands up in front of him and a barely contained smile.

"... You must have scared him," Kaoru chuckled. "There's a lot of people around him right now ; he doesn't know anyone here and you just tumble here like that without warning."

"Are you trying to say it's my fault ?!"

"Look, in his place I would have been afraid too," Yahiko taunted, wiping tears from his hilarity.

"Go to hell! Because of that, I've got to go back home to change this mess and I'll be too late to come at Megumi's consultation today! Tsssk!"

Sanosuke wrung the damp fabric, then returned angrily from where he had come, the right side of his white trousers having taken a noticeable odoriferous yellowish hue.

"Yare yare, Sanosuke was not lucky today..." the wanderer observed, rubbing the back of his skull.

"Come on Lychee, we're going to give you a human shape – I mean, canine shape!"

After cleaning the mound of dirt and grime that covered the animal, it turned out that Lychee had a soft but dense coat that described a cream-colored fire dress at his snout and chest, finished by a firmly wrapped wide tail. His face was drawing almond-shaped eyes framed by short triangular ears.

"He has a nice urajiro," Kaoru commented as she rested the brush on the ground. "He's a pure breed."

"He had hidden his game pretty well actually, this little one is a noble in fact!" replied her disciple, still amused.

Yahiko, who had known the streets after being born in a samurai family, once considered nobility during Tokugawa era, actually felt pretty close to the dog. He did not, however, notify his master that she had been right with the annoying comment she had made him earlier.

"Yes, and he's been wise all the way down," she said. "We'll see if he wants to stay here, but I'm ready to adopt him."

* * *

Of all the girls in Japan, none was more excited than Misao. She was the very definition of vitality and logorrhea. Okina, her adoptive grandfather, called this "the freshness of youth," an attribute he had obviously been lacking since a long time. Although he did not share a blood bond with the girl, they were connected by a strong spiritual affinity that led them to believe they must have been siblings in a previous life. These two were always stuffed together and as stubborn as each other, which gave colors at the Aioya the days of dispute.

To contrast with this excess of exuberant fervor existed the gloomy Aoshi Shinomori. Real shadow of this inn, he made it a point of honor not to talk about himself and to ignore the aforementioned people -which did not fail to provoke in them anger and frustration. Above everything, he appreciated calm and spent most of his time meditating. For those who did not know him well, loneliness seemed to be the only company this man ever needed.

And, as implausible as it may seem, Aoshi and Misao were clandestinely in love with each other.

"Aoshi-samaaaaaaaaaaaaaa"

The little brunette tumbled into the room like a tornado. A traveling pigeon had just arrived at Oniwabanshu's center, failing to knock out her grandfather on landing (facetious fowl could be unpredictable), and it contained a message from Kyoto police force. The network of Tokugawa's ancient ninjas was at that time still a well-known spying complex in the area, and their tentacles were extending far beyond the former capital.

Aoshi waited for the girl to speak before leaving his trance. Fortunately, it took a lot more than that to extract him from his meditation.

"W-we got a * pfou * missive!" Misao hissed, trying to catch her breath

She handed him the paper while she was still simultaneously finishing her sentence and catching her breath. Doing 3 things at once was one of her specialties.

"Oh," he said, raising his eyebrow. "It's rare for them to ask our help."

"That's all?!"

The girl waved her long mats, squinting two ocean-colored eyes dramatically.

"It's a case of missing children! That's horrible!"

Aoshi nodded discreetly, then took time to drink down his tea, at a desperately slow speed for his interlocutor. When he had finished deciphering the kanji lines, he slowly got up from his seiza position.

"Let's go see that."

"YEHAAAAAY! Oniwabanshu is on the move!"

Misao exploded with joy, catching her kunai just before slamming down the stairs, while starting to undo her clothes to put on her ninja outfit. At almost 17, she still behaved like a tomboy, with no regard for her young woman's body. Okina, parked by chance at the bottom of the stairs, nearly succumbed to nasal bleeding. Aoshi, who had followed her on her journey, secretly compressed his nostril.

* * *

It was their first serious track since the beginning of investigations. Boxes carefully closed, which were exchanged in underground market at a higher price than their supposed content required, potentially large enough to contain small bodies. That's all it takes to send officer Goro Fujita to the battlefield, accompanied by his worst enemy with cruciform scar. Indeed, it was useless to move an entire police squadron to alert traffickers as long as their cache had not been discovered, and Himura had the most developed tracking instinct among the men that the former Shinsengumi knew about - excepted himself, of course.

The two swordsmen were therefore skimming the aisles of Ameya Yokocho market together, looking for suspicious individuals or goods. According to police informants, rumor of a delivery that day was running in smuggler's circle. It had been almost an hour since they began walking next to each other without a word, each one busy scrutinizing and analyzing the commotion around them.

"... Do you see anything, Battosai?"

"No."

"Ok."

 _ _This is going to be long ...__ they thought simultaneously, reciprocally annoyed by the imposing ki of the other man which prevented them to see more clearly in this population's swarm. It was rare to have two fighters of such a level side by side.

 _ _Maybe I should have simply left with a colleague ...__

Saito lit his cigarette with disdain. To the chagrin of the redhead who previously enjoyed the clean air of Tokyo.

 _ _If the aim was going at the market, this one would rather go shopping for Kaoru-dono than that ...__

Kenshin was rubbing his hand absently on the guard of his sakabatô.

Except for the vendors who shouted as loudly as in Tsukiji at fish trading's hour, the stalls filled with various foodstuffs ranging from celery stems to freshly painted daruma and seas of japanese umbrella as well as arms full inhabitants of Tokyo, they had seen nothing until now, at least as far as a crime was concerned.

 _ _If I had been told that I would one day go to the market with Battosaï ...__

 _ _If this one had known that he would one day go to the market with Shinsengumi's third captain...__

The former Shinsengumi had exceptionally swapped his regular navy blue uniform for a more discrete town outfit consisting of brown trousers and a beige fine-knit Western shirt, buttoned up to the neck despite the surrounding heat. This garb meant to make him go unnoticed, however, did not dupe the man with raised sleeves hidden behind large basins of fermented soy paste at the main square's other end, who recognized the police officer as soon as he entered his vision's field.

He suddenly hurried away, disappearing in the background of the two men, believing himself safe in the dense crowd that separated them. Big mistake. Himura immediately noticed the abnormal movement. He threw himself at full speed into the human mass, dodging individuals who composed it at the last second, jumping over stalls and leaning on stone walls that surrounded him to improve his impulse. In a split-second, he had already reduced the space between him and the fugitive by half.

Saito, taking no time to think about it further, also ran after the individual, but the redhead right behind him was already almost out of sight.

 _ _Here it is, the famous divine speed ...__

Finally, Saito was happy to have chosen Himura as a partner. His own acceleration was superior to most other men's, but he was no match for the agility of the former Ishin Shishi's slender body. No matter how quick he ran it was impossible to catch him, and he soon started to feel his own breath go short.

 _ _Tokio would tell me it's the tobacco's fault ...__

He winced internally at the idea that his wife could once again be right about him and concentrated on the aura of the patriot. He had now disappeared from the landscape, so he just contented to follow his flaming ki. When he found the two men in a dead-end street corner, the wanderer already held the fellow in respect, sword drawn.

"This one does not intend to hurt you, that he does not. Just tell us why you fled away like that."

The man did not answer him, busy with looking for a way out while keeping the opposing katana at a respectable distance from his abdomen. He had had no time to catch his own gun hidden under the miso stall, too eager to run away.

"Speak, and everything will be fine." continued the redhead, who did not take his eyes off him.

The man merely sniffed but winced openly when he saw the police officer arrive behind him, whom he had precisely tried to escape a few moments earlier.

"A cop... tssk."

Saito pressed his face a few inches from his.

"Be careful, ahou. Unlike that idiot there, I don't give a damn about keeping you in one piece ..."

The fugitive's only answer was to spat on the ground. His contempt for police was obvious. The former Shinsengumi took him by the collar and pushed him violently against the wall.

"Speak."

His silence was rewarded by a heavy stomach punch.

"Speak!"

A second one followed on his face, without even allowing the thug a chance to open his mouth again. He spat a tooth on the ground.

"Saito!"

Kenshin gave his teammate a death glare. The atmosphere between them had suddenly and dangerously tensed. The two swordsmen were evaluating each other, confronting their kis with severity. The fugitive, whose nose had begun to bleed, had for a moment the impression that he was no longer the target, but that two hunters were facing him. The frightening man who was slapping him on the wall, moreover, had the golden and threatening irises of a wolf.

"Battosaï ..."

"You can always put him in cell after." sharply said the wanderer before turning back at the fellow again, this time smiling at him. "Mr. Merchant will give us the information, is this one right?"

"B-Battosaï?"

The said merchant was obsessed with the information previously unveiled by the plain-clothes officer. If his memory was right, this name was the one of an inhuman assassin who terrorized all Kyoto ten years ago... bloody tales and legends of the Bakumatsu brutally came back to his mind. Ocher hair, scar on the cheek, eyes cold like cobalt and this delicate stature... Confessing everything he knew suddenly seemed his best option for survival.

"Don't kill me!" he stammered. "E-everything is in the shed!"

"A shed? Where is this shed?" Saito continued, tightening his grip on the man's neck, secretly jealous that he had reacted at his former adversary's name and not his own presence. But Goro Fujita could not afford to reveal his precious identity to a mere slob. He would ensure, anyway, that the man personally regrets this affront during his stay at cell. Far from the redhead and his out-timed principles.

"P-please just let me go! I'm gonna lead you there..."

All three of them left, following instructions given by the individual, whom the officer was now dragging by the arm without care. The warehouse in question was a few kilometers further east in the city, hidden behind the front of a kokeshi shop. Rows side by side, the little multicolored dolls brightened the front of their innocent smiles.

 _ _Such a bad taste ...__ thought Saito, who had in mind a child's trafficking case. Another punch was lost for free on thug's head... who fell to the floor, unconscious.

"Huh, maybe I've been a little hard... at least he will not move until we're finished with exploring this place."

"Saito..."

The wanderer's gaze was more than exasperated.

In the shelter of a nearby observation room, at the sight of only two men – not to mention a small and almost female-looking one -, the traffickers obviously believed that their overwhelming numerical superiority would give them easy victory. Surely they did not know that they were in fact facing the finest ex-Shinsengumi and ex-Ishin Shishi assassins. I mean, what on earth was the probability of having in front of you the two elite killers of strictly opposite factions of Japanese revolution? It would really be bad luck, wouldn't it?

The former patriot threw himself into the fray first. He had unsheathed his sakabatô before they even reached their vision's field and was whirling between the thieves with a celerity barely perceptible for human eye. Not even an inflection on his impassive face, only two azure irises wrinkled by concentration. Concussing vital points, parrying thrust and dodging bullets in one movement, hammering reverse-bladed saber blows with surgical precision in a funeral ballet punctuated only by the unfolding of his long purple hair and the contortions of his slender body... the samourai's cold anger was muzzled with perfect mastery.

Saito narrowed his eyes. Seeing the eldest killer of Ishin Shishi dancing in the midst of his enemies bristled his hairs as much as it filled him with an impure desire... the desire to find himself being thrown again eleven years back, in Kyoto's dark and lowering streets, in front of the assassin with amber and magnetic eyes who spread death around him as the wind spreads seeds in spring.

He suppressed for a moment the urge to jump on him saber raised instead of the traffickers, before remembering that they were in the middle of Meiji era and that he was indeed a law officer. He sighed, unsheathed his katana, and worked at releasing his frustration on these mere punks. For those who, frightened by the demon with cruciform scar, had decided to attack the tall brown man who was following him closely, destiny was hardly more tender. Saito wielded his blade like a fencer, slicing horizontally with a fury that would turn pale antiquity's colossi, and unceremoniously used his long limbs to strike the unfortunate who were trying to approach him from other sides. They progressed this way from room to room until they reached an enlarged cavity.

In the meantime, Kenshin, who had gotten rid of his own attackers, stood in front of a small guardrail from which he was scanning the warehouse below, apparently filled with massive wooden crates, in search of living beings who could be hidden there.

"... Did you find anything, Battosai?"

Saito sent back his opponent's weapon in the face with the power of his parry.

"This one thinks the reserve is right below ..."

"Where ?!"

The former Shinsengumi turned around a little too vividly, and gave a violent kick to the last enemy who was running at him, sending his sturdy body at full speed on the wanderer's back, unfortunately still leaning over the railing...

"ORO?"

Surprised, he fell several meters down, his body crashing heavily against the downstream crates. They dampened a part of the blow but broke under the impact's violence. Their content was thrown into the air, releasing sheaves of rye straw in which small transparent bags were hidden. By tearing apart, they released a white dust that was floating thickly around the wanderer. He sneezed vigorously, inhaling ashes and shavings through both nose and mouth.

"... So that's what was hidden in their goods?" the policeman from above remarked, ignoring the consequences of brutal landing on his teammate who was now dusting his hair with energy.

"Oro?"

Kenshin sneezed again, quickly trying to get out of this jumble.

"...What is it?" Hajime pointed out, showing to the powdery smoke around him.

"This one thinks it's... opium."

"Hmpf. That's not really what I expected."

Saito could barely conceal his disappointment. Dismantling drug trafficking was a good thing, but it did not solve his problem at all.

"T-this one thinks he will rest a little, that he will."

The redhead laboriously sat outside the pile of wood and straw and closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the wall. His eyes were already beginning to lose their clarity.

"O-Oroooo ..."

"Fine. Do whatever you want, but don't waste too much time with your antics."

He turned to the samurai, whose eyes were dangerously swaying.

"As soon as you're ready we'll get back on the road, I have to tie up and bring all those idiots to the police station."

His teammate remained motionless for ten minutes against the wall, waiting for the nebulous sensations to pass. Saito, meanwhile, was pondering the derisive progress of his investigation. Of course, fighting back the opium trade of their Chinese neighbors, which had weakened Japan for more than a decade now, would not be lost for his brigade. But it simply did not have anything to do with the current instruction.

"Looks like it's a bad track..." the former Shinsengumi grumbled.

He had the intuition that this case would be much more complicated than expected...

* * *

 _ ** _ **Next chapter :**_**_ Drowned


	6. Drowned

**_**Lexicon:**_**

Daïkon: large white radish (asian cousin of the black radish)

Onegai: please

Ojisan: grandfather

Hai : yes / ok

Yosenabe: Japanese fondue consisting of a clear broth, tofu, salad, meat and / or fish

Baka deshi : stupid disciple

* * *

 _ ** _ **Chapter 6:**_**_ Drowned

* * *

 _ _He was so tired.__

 _ _He had to sleep tonight.__

The empty sake bottle hung beside him without consideration. The world around him, an unstable whirlwind.

 _ _He hated being drunk.__

A corner of his brain noted the hot sensation that was running through his body. He took out the flask of potato alcohol taken from an importation shop, which came from a cold country on the other side of the sea. Benefits of Japan's opening to the West.

 _ _He hated losing control of himself.__

"VODKA STOLNICHNAYA USSR" was written in unknown alphabet on the label.

 _ _But he hated those nightmares even more.__

From what the seller told him, this drink was pretty strong. The harsh liquid ran down his throat, tracing a burning path all along.

 _ _Not yet, not tonight.__

His arms were shaking vigorously.

 _ _He had to sleep.__

Some more sips, and the samurai plunged abruptly into a dreamless slumber as he lost consciousness.

* * *

Kaoru particularly enjoyed waking up in the morning because she knew that a fresh meal was waiting for her before anything else. But today, no sweet smell of food was there to tickle her taste buds.

"Kenshin... Kenshin?"

Usually, the wanderer was up before any other inhabitant of the dojo and had already prepared breakfast. Some tsukemono, made of aubergines, daikon or cucumbers seasoned with a bowl of rice and cold tea. Some days when finances allowed it he added a raw egg to make a kake gohan tamake or a poached one for a tamago onsen. Fishes such as tuna or sardine were reserved for more noble meals. She met him at the exit of his room, his hair discreetly ruffled.

"Sumimasen Kaoru-dono, this one slept a little late, that he did..."

He scratched the back of his head as if it was painful. He still looked foggy with sleep.

"Don't you worry about that, you have the right to sleep more sometime! I mean your body has gone through a lot this year with all these fights ... It's rather me who should try to get up sooner!" continued the young kendoka with an ounce of guilt.

 _ _If only I were more feminine ...__

"This one will start cooking right away, that he will."

He walked towards the kitchen, lacking his customary grace, caught up by a sudden nausea wave. Kaoru saw him take a few steps in an unusually slow motion.

 _ _He's still tired ... and he doesn't want to show it in front of me.__

"I'm taking care of it!" she continued quickly. "Take this opportunity to rest!"

The breakfast would be barely edible, Yahiko would be in a bad mood because of that for half the day and a fight would probably break out between him and his master as a result, but for once ... the wanderer did not insist. He didn't really intend to eat this morning anyway. A few polite bites on his meal would be amply enough. So he appreciated Kaoru's attention, and went to sit on the engawa in search of tranquility and freshness ...

Only a few minutes later, Dr. Gensaï's little girls burst into the garden, filling space with loud and shrill cries.

"Ken -niii!"

Kenshin winced briefly before laminating a smile on his face. Lychee had joined them, barking heartly at a painfully sharper height, all the while turning around them. They had in their arms all of Dr. Gensai's fishing equipment, which consisted of an old wooden cane and two jars filled with earthworms.

"Wanna come to catch fishes with us?"

"Oro? Sun is barely up, that it is, should you not be at your grandfather's place instead?"

"He's already at work," Suzume explained with watery eyes. "We went fishing together yesterday, but we didn't take anything AT ALL"

"For once that he was free enough to go with us! It's not fair !" completed her older sister.

They looked deeply disappointed.

"These are things that happen... In life, we do not always get the expected result, even when we try very hard, that we do." the wanderer explained gently, rubbing his temples. "Sometimes you have to be patient."

"But we had no time 'cause he had to go back to the clinic to cure a ..." she hesitated on the term "... flemingitis*?"

 _(*Authors's note : ok, sorry about that one but I honestly didn't find how to traduce the wordgame in english ; in french it is a mix between words for slackness (flemme) and meningitis (méningite))_

"Would you try again with us today?" Ayame continued, extending her arms.

He pondered the information for a few moments. He was still a little drunk from night before. Fishing with the two girls would probably be more relaxing than performing a manual coordination demanding activity such as housework. They also looked overly voluntary, which made his heartstrings slightly vibrate - it was common knowledge that Kenshin Himura could not refuse children anything. And then, if they got too noisy, he could still focus on the soothing sound of river.

"Yare yare, this one will come with you. Let's see if the three of us can catch something..."

The wanderer grabbed their equipment to place it on his shoulders and took them by the hand, heading for Toshimaen River.

"Yeaaaaah! Come-on, Lychee!"

Despite hearing the little girls' call, the small animal grunted under his breath in reaction. He was still suspicious of the wanderer. He jumped whenever he arrived in his visionfield and let him approache only in case of extreme necessity (as for example, the holy filling of his food bowl). Since his adoption, he never went to bed near him, and never felt asleep in his presence. Call it dog instinct. But the urge to run in the water with the two children was stronger than anything-question of instinct as well- and Lychee followed them, trotting cautiously in their back, watching over the girls' surroundings.

An hour later, Kenshin was sitting on grass fishing rod in hand, the euphoric dog half submerged in the river and the two small ones each on one side of him, Suzume partially lying on his lap. His gaze was resting absently on the water flowing below. The current was weak and the breeze was pleasantly blowing in his red hair. Fishes did not seem to want to bite. At least the girls were calm, absorbed by the idea that something in the stream was ready to pounce outside. The former assassin was quietly enjoying silence.

"Ken-nii?"

"Hmm?"

"Did you often go fishing with your parents?" asked Ayame

"...No."

"Did you go to the market with them?" continued Suzume

"No."

He gave them a slightly forced smile as he scratched the back of his head.

"Did they a least play with you?"

"Well... Where I lived, children were mostly working in the fields to help their parents."

"But why ?"

Kenshin was reflecting on how to politely end this conversation while satisfying the two little girls' innate curiosity.

"Back in those days, there was not much to eat in small mountain villages like mine. We were often hungry, so finding food was our main concern."

"Oh..."

Seeing that her questions only led to negations, Ayame tried another approach.

"So you helped your parents? Ojiisan tells us all the time that he is proud of us, was your daddy proud of you too?"

He paused for a moment. And plastified a new smile on his face.

"... It was a different time, Ayame-chan. Things are much better now."

Just the presence of these two little girls full of life in front of him partly justified some of Bakumatsu's sacrifices.

"But it's too bad if they didn't do anything else with y..."

"Would you like to hold the cane?" he cut

"Oh yes, yes!" Exclaimed the girl clapping her hands, changing subject instantly.

The wanderer held the instrument in her direction.

"Mmmh, you have to be careful not to let go of it while keeping enough balance to stay on the bank, that you do... do you feel ready for that?"

"Grandfather showed me, I know how to hold it now!"

Raising her head from the samurai's knees, Suzume watched her sister jealously. The dog was focused on a white butterfly that had landed on his muzzle. He shook it briskly, splashing a side of the shore with his wet hairs.

"Suzume-chan, this one promises to let you try this too when you get a little older, that he does..." added for her the wanderer.

"Huwaaah!"

The girl's gaze lit up, and the samurai patted her head briefly before carefully putting back the cane in her older sister's hands. He then helped her to stabilize.

"Hold it horizontally, and warn this one as soon as you feels like it's pulling."

"Hm!"

Ayame was proud like a rooster. But minutes after she had seized the instrument, the line tensed suddenly. Kenshin quickly grabbed the cane and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, keeping the girl's body from falling into the water.

"It bites, it bites!"

Ayame was too excited by the idea of finally catching something to pay attention to the fact that she had nearly dipped into the stream few seconds earlier. Lychee was jumping frantically into the river, stimulated by the activity's revival. The wanderer hauled the line with dexterity, and pulled up a silver mackerel striped with black lines, about twenty centimeters long.

 _ _That is enough to cheer up tonight's meal, that it is.__

"A fish ! We caught a fish!"

The little ones exploded joyfully, running to from right to left.

"Would you like to come and eat it at the dojo for dinner?

"Yeeees!"

"Then go tell your grandfather to join us."

The wanderer watched with a smile as the two small tornadoes moved away towards the clinic.

* * *

Megumi and Dr. Gensai were both in the upstairs office.

Today was rather calm. They had had little activity this morning: an ankle sprained inadvertently, a child who had swallowed a worm and a notable who was sure he was going to die of his viral diarrhea. A bundle of lives saved, to say the least. But rather than giving up, they had decided to put that time to good use. As soon as he had the opportunity, the old man was teaching Megumi medicine, and the young woman was more than eager to acquire his knowledge.

A whole bunch of books were open in front of them, most of them with convoluted body diagrams that would make Tokyo's erotic print sellers turn green with envy. Seated upright on her knees, the doctor-in-training was writting everything the old man said her.

"I never had such a studious student," said Dr. Gensai.

Since he had begun her training, he had never ceased to wonder at her learning ability. Megumi Takani had already mastered most of medicinal preparations, had an innate talent for suturing and knew the cycle of epizootics' spread on fingertips. She had become in a few months an independent practitioner able to take care of her own patients. And to relieve the old doctor of a part of his work, becoming more and more difficult with years ...

"So, how do you do to replace a bone that has deviated from its receptacle?"

Megumi stopped writing and put the pencil's wood at the corner of her mouth.

"Hmm ... You have to pull it in the opposite direction of the one in which it has been wrongly oriented, while holding firmly the joint's base to avoid causing a fracture. Before that, it is necessary to feel the body part with precision to know exactly what the angle of rotation is."

"You're a quick learner! I started talking to you about this topic only last week. When I was a young doctor, it took me almost a month to acquire this technique!"

"I have no merit. My whole family is in medicine ... I'm drowning in it since I was very young."

For a moment, Megumi went back to her childhood in Aizu with nostalgia. Her parents and brothers were still missing. While reflecting, she was indiscriminately triturating a formalin bottle inhabited by a mass of pinkish flesh that could very well have been a brain. Or an intestine folded on itself.

"Don't be so hard with yourself. Knowledge has nothing to do with luck," Dr. Gensai continued. "To learn how to correctly place a joint, you have to practice, practice and practice again."

"So you'll have the right to tell me that I am talented when I'll have successfully applied this technique on one of our patients."

The old doctor smiled at her. The young woman was stubborn, but he had a lot of patience. He was about to show her how to implement what she had just learned by heart, when high-pitched cries were heard on the ground floor.

"Ojiisan! Ojiiiisan!"

The two granddaughters landed like a tornado in the office, throwing papers all over the place.

"Yes dear, what is it? You can see ojisan is rather busy ..."

"With Ken-nii, we catched a biiig fish this morning!" began the first one in the guiltiest tone she knew.

"You promised to try to play with us at least in the afternoon! And it's sunny today!" protested the second.

Ayame and Suzume had a natural gift for melting their grandfather's heart. With their hair pulled up in small ponytails and their watery eyes, they were staring at him with an insistent look. Refusing their offer would probably be the start of a well deserved tear crisis.

"Onegaiiiiiii!" they resumed in one voice.

"Hai hai, you know I cannot tell you no ..."

The old doctor took the two happy little girls by the hand. His face and his wrinkled eyes were illuminated by a broad smile.

"I'm sorry Megumi, but we'll discuss this topic another day. Can I let you take care of the clinic this afternoon?"

"Of course, Gensai-san, I understand."

 _ _He's no longer young ... He wants to enjoy his granddaughters before he is gone. It's perfectly understandable...__

With that, the old man disappeared on the stairs. Megumi sighed. Now that he was stuck with his beloved descendants he was not ready to go back to his museum. Well, his office.

 _ _And with autumn epidemics that'll be coming soon ... God only knows when we'll have time to continue this lesson. Let's just hope that I will not have to relocate any joint before ...__

She picked up the book he had used, and resumed studying alone.

* * *

"Since you were the one to catch it, I should be the one to cook it," had prophesied Kaoru when the samurai had returned from his fishing session with the two grandchildren, mackerel in hand.

Now Kenshin was fearing the worst. He had promised not to disturb her during the realization of her mystery recipe, but curiosity (or fear) eventually overpowered his pious resolution, and he had decided to take a discreet look in the kitchen sooner or later... That's why he was not disappointed to find the young kendoka preparing a smelly broth.

 _ _This one brings her a whole fish, and she throws it in a soup? And this scent of burnt...__

With two arms sleeve-raised above the pot and a sweaty face, Kaoru turned to her savior desperately.

"I don't know what to do, Kenshin... I've got the feeling that it should not look like that ..."

He sighed gently and gave her a large smile.

"Let this one help you, Kaoru-dono."

The wanderer began by quenching the fire. Then he got behind her, and put his hands on each of hers. Kaoru blushed. He was close to her back, his face almost leaning against hers.

"To make a proper yosenabe ..." he began.

He guided her spoon, gently waving it in the container in a circular motion.

"... you have to stir little by little. If you don't use softness in your movements, fish's flesh can tear up."

"Oh..."

Kaoru wouldn't dare moving a single muscle. The wanderer's demonstrations of affection were rare. In fact, the number of times he had approached her could be counted in units rather than tens ...

"You need to add ginger then to it give taste ..."

Still with his hand in hers, he grabbed the spice bag and poured a fine rain over the preparation.

"... but sparingly. Otherwise, the aroma could burn your tongue."

He finished his sentence in a whisper, wraping the word 'tongue' in his own mouth. The young kendoka was listening attentively. Only, it was not at all on the recipe that she was concentrated. The only thing she could feel was his breath tickling her hair. And his lips that were so close ... For a moment, she thought he was going to kiss her.

But the wanderer simply retreated, discreetly caressing her forearms as he withdrew. She missed the brief passage of amber gleam in his eyes. Footsteps were heard in the corridor right after.

"The broth needs to simmer for a moment, Kaoru-dono," he added.

"Ha, I'm glad you've taken matters in hand Kenshin!" Yahiko snarled as he entered the room. "I don't think I could've make it if she had ruined such a precious piece as a fish!"

"Yaaaa ... hiiiii ... KOOOO!"

Insulting her about her cooking was bad enough, but spoiling a private moment with the samurai was overpassing everything she could ever imagine. An angry bokken was sent crashing towards the door at lightspeed.

"Oh, it happened faster than I thought this time," said the disciple, dodging the obstacle with a head turn -he was getting used to his master's impulsive moods. "Unlike the wrinkles on your face, you haven't aged, busu!"

"Ungrateful disciple!"

"Can't you see it was a mere compliment!?"

Thus, the two adherent of Kamiya-kasshin school left for a well-felt nightly exercise of running, assistant master near behind her favorite (and only) disciple, saber ferociously brandished above the head. The rest of the evening went off without a hitch, and Dr. Gensai and his daughters were able to savor a rightly earned mackerel Yosenabe.

* * *

 _ _This season would be perfect for traveling ...__

Tôkaidô's road, sometimes paved sometimes sandy, was largely surrounded by high trees in the shade of which it was pleasant to walk. They also partially protected against wind and rain, creating a favorable microcosm for travelers. You could have heard birds singing on their branches ...

 _ _... if only there was not SO MANY PEOPLE!__

Even the bridges were complicated to cross because of the dense crowd. Hiko was now approaching Shirazuka, which was almost halfway to his journey. He had lost time near Yokkaichi, to chasten thieves who were robbing the walkers. Near Okazaki, too, where he had to give a hand to men who were trying to unravel their cart brazenly stranded on roadside. Was it necessary to mention also this crippled man he had helped in Hamamatsu?

Seijuro sighed. Failing to move forward effectively he decided to go shopping for essentials needs in the city. In doing so, he was humming an old song that he was the only one to know and that he would never boast of having ever sung under penalty of throwing huge shame on his ancestors until the thirteenth generation. The master was one of those men filled with ridiculous little habits that are reserved only for moments when, assuredly, no one on earth can see you -not even a baka deshi. It was therefore particularly suitable for his hermit lifestyle. Every time he went down to Kyoto to sell his pottery and various other things, it was these moments of solitude, when he was returning from the city's hubbub, which he particularly appreciated. Departure of Shirazuka thus had the same effect on him.

 _ _At this rate, I'll need much more than another week to reach Tokyo ...__

* * *

 _ ** _ **Next chapter:**_**_ The wanderer's wrath


	7. The wanderer's wrath

**_**Lexicon:**_**

Demo : but

Tofu : soja cheese

Geta: a Japanese wooden clog for outdoor wear

Abunai : attention

Shimatta: shit

Otôsan: father

* * *

 _ ** _ **Chapter 7:**_**_ The wanderer's wrath

* * *

This afternoon, an electric atmosphere was weighing down the air at Kamiya dôjô. Kenshin and Kaoru were both in the garden, facing each other.

"I tell you there's no need to worry ..."

"Please do not bother yourself Kaoru-dono, this one will go to the market himself, that he will."

Unlike his relaxed smile, the wanderer was tense.

"But you still have all the laundry to do, and I've finished my lessons for this afternoon! I better go."

The young kendoka had put on her city outfit, a yellow kimono at the bottom of which copper orchids were drawn.

"It does not matter, this one will go after finishing his chores, that he will."

"That's ridiculous, Kenshin. You might arrive too late and there will be nothing left. I am still capable to buy tofu all by myself you know."

"Demo ..." he protested again. "This one thinks the light will be coming down soon... we do not know what can happen, that we don't."

Even if his face didn't show any annoyance, he was becoming uncomfortably insistent.

"Stop these insinuations right now; I'm not going to stay locked up here under such ridiculous pretexts!" stormed the Kamiya Kasshin's master. "Everything will be fine, I won't fly away just like that, we're in the middle of Meiji era not in Bakumatsu for God's sake!"

Deep inside, Kaoru knew he wasn't thinking badly. He was just being overly protective. This side of him had been strongly exacerbated since Enishi's coming.

 _ _But I cannot let him treat me like a porcelain doll ...__

"I'll go to the market no matter what." she added to end the discussion.

"In this case, this one will accompany you."

He promptly put the laundry tub at his feet.

"I don't need an escort!"

"Kaoru-dono ..."

"Enough! Just try and stop me from going out by yourself if you're so unhappy with that, I'll be glad to explain you my point of view with a shinai!" finished the young kendoka, exasperated.

Kenshin was silent for a few seconds as if he seemed to be considering the information briefly.

"Kaoru-dono, do not go alone."

His voice took a more serious tone.

"I've made my decision!" She fumed. "It'll be dark before we even finish this stupid discussion!"

With that, Kaoru rushed towards the door.

Kenshin said nothing, but she saw him pinch his lips and squint. For a moment she thought he was really going to stop her.

 _ _This look ... he's serious when he says he doesn't want to let me go?__

Under the broad sleeves of his gi, the two fists of the samurai were white from tightening them.

 _ _... I sometimes forget who he was.__ Kaoru almost shivered as she grabbed the wooden bucket in which they were packing groceries. And corrected herself instantly. __I'm such an idiot! I'm probably safer with him than with anyone else!__

The wanderer was holding his breath. He did not leave his eyes of her as she moved away from the dojo.

* * *

The young doctor and her patient were sitting next to each other on a bench in front of the small clinic. Despite the late hour, Megumi was still in work clothes. Concentration written on her face, she opened a lacquer box containing an unidentified herbaceous preparation. The streetfighter's retreat was almost immediate.

"Pooh! Your thing stinks as much as Jou-chan's cooking!"

"It's a benzoin balm!" she defended herself. "Show me a little respect, I've spent hours preparing this..."

"And ya' sure it works?"

"Do you really think I'd waste my time applying it on you if it did not?"

Sanosuke snorted. But did not protest any more. Megumi spread the said cream with caution on his wrist. Aside from the cavalier smell, the contact was cold but not unpleasant.

"And then, if you're not happy, there's nothing stopping you from getting treatment elsewhere... I don't remember ever charging you a single yen, if I'm correct."

He suddenly found his sandals very interesting.

"It makes me think that ... uh ..." He scratched his head. "... what a beautiful kimono you have, did ya just bought that?"

"Sagara. I am currently wearing a clinic uniform, which white color has vanished for at least a century's quarter, and moreover that is dirty since a patient almost vomited on me this morning ..." She waved her hand coquettishly in front of her face. "So keep your saliva young man, that does'nt work with me."

"... Young man ?! We're nearly the same age, kitsune!"

"... Are you sure you wanna approach this subject with a woman? Besides, if we're talking about brain maturity, I could almost be your mother."

"Pffh!"

She sent him a glare while continuing to massage his wrist carefully, helping the preparation to penetrate. Sanosuke, meanwhile, had not detached his eyes from the suspicious balm.

"By the way, I was told there was a new tenant at Kamiya dôjô ... How is Lychee going?"

"If ya only knew how stupid this mutt is..." sighed the former Sekihotai.

"You can't be right. It's a very faithful race ; Shiba-Inu are said to be a quarter dog, a quarter cat, a quarter man, and a last quarter monkey."

Sanosuke lost his account of quarters.

"Yeah, well, I guess he just took everything from the monkey ..."

"They have such a good vigilance that some peasants actually use them for hunting. He'll make an excellent guardian for the dôjô!"

"B'tween a former Ishin Shishi, the tanuki and her disciple, ya got already enough guards there! I tell ya, this dirty beast does anything to annoy me, but only when the others have their backs turned ... "

Sanosuke ended his sentence with a deliberately exaggerated puerile pout.

"By the way," continued Megumi, who was not at all listening, "they all are exceptionally clean dogs ..."

"No kidding ?! D'ya explain why he pissed on me first time I saw him?"

"I told you, they are smart dogs."

The doctor put away the little lacquer box to catch bandages.

"... Oh, one minute, is it because of that that you couldn't come to our consultation last time?"

"And it's only now that you realize?"

"Don't move!"

"Hum ... Tell me, how come I always have a wrist pain even if I almost don't use Futae no kiwami anymore?"

"It's called rheumatism, that's what happens to fools when they use their joint too often knowing their doctor ordered them to do the exact opposite."

A new glare, this one speaking about her annoyance as to the unobservance of her patient, was addressed to the streetfighter. Sanosuke wisely decided to ignore it.

"Don't lecture me. You were glad I helped putting Enishi and his gang down, and Shishio was really worth spoiling a wrist!"

He chuckled, she sighed.

"I guess for once you're right ... it's the damage on Ken-san that's more annoying ..."

"What d'ya mean, Kitsune?"

"As for him, it's not only the wrist, it's the whole body that has suffered. He's been practicing kenjutsu at a much too intensive pace since he was a child. And his school's techniques are adapted to a much larger size like Hiko-san's... Ken-san's body is ... too puny. "

"Megumi ..."

Sanosuke put his hand over the doctor's shoulder.

"Ya worry about nothing, Kenshin is aware of all that."

"But..."

He stared straight into her eyes.

"These are the choices he has made, do not underestimate him."

She pushed the arm of the streetfighter sharply.

"I do not worry about him, Kaoru is at his side now."

"Megumi ..." He widened his eyes. "Are you still jealous?"

"Stop saying nonsense! I've chosen to look forward, my vocation as a doctor is more important than anything else!"

"So..."

His face took a serious look.

"... would you come for dinner with me, one night?"

 _ _Eh?__

Taken aback, Megumi turned her head away, to prevent him from seeing the slight purple complexion that had won her cheeks.

"I ... I have no time for that. I want to learn as many things as I can from Dr. Gensai before leaving for Aizu."

It was Sanosuke's turn to sigh.

"As you wish, kitsune."

* * *

Left alone in the garden, the wanderer threw the laundry bag to the ground with rage.

Anger was feverishly gaining him and he was struggling to control it. Kenshin was a perfectionist and hot-blooded man, but he concealed this aspect of him with a severe self-control. He knew that tonight he had been excessive.

 _ _I have no rights over her ...__

He grabbed his sakabatto.

 _ _I shall__ _ _ **not**__ _ _dictate her behaving. I shall__ _ _ **not**__ _ _talk to her this way.__

His conscience was gnawing at him, but he was unable to control his anxiety rationally. He had felt a bad presentiment. His body was sweating and his chest was squeezing.

 _ _Just to be sure everything is fine ...__

He abandonned the current task and left the dojo with the intention of following her against her will. He did that sometimes without her knowledge when a fear of another time caught up with him. Losing his wife was not a vain expression for Himura. His early mistakes had already left him with a deep wound, a gaping scar that would probably remain until his death. Even though he knew his reaction was disproportionate, he needed instant reassurance.

Kenshin concentrated for a moment on feeling her ki. Luckily, she didn't have time to go too far. When he spotted her with certainty, he set out on the way at a respectable distance from the young woman, while blending into the background with assassin's ease.

Stalking a person was child's play for the former Ishin Shishi.

* * *

Kaoru was roaming the capital's streets with a certain stress. Sun was going down and every passing minute meant a drop in tofu stock potentially available on the market. The ingredient was very popular among Tokyo's inhabitants and it was as difficult to get some at the end of the day as to cook a decent meal in absence of this basic component.

 _ _If Kenshin hadn't made me waste so much time, I wouldn't have to hurry.__

To make it even more perfect, it was difficult for her to walk at a steady pace with her kimono and woman's getas slowing the slightest of her movements.

 _ _Rah! I should've put my kendo outfit!__

This ideal moment was chosen by one of her neighbors, old Mrs Okabu, also known as the neighborhood's gossip prophet, to interrupt her as she was rushing past her home.

"Oooh Kamiya-chan, how are you?"

 _ _I must be dreaming... Does she have a sixth sense to know when people absolutely don't want to be disturbed?__

"Does this ... wanderer still hang around your house?"

"He is no longer a wanderer. His name is Kenshin Himura, and he's living at the dojo now!"

"Please do not be uspet... I didn't know you were married."

"That's because we are not married!"

Kaoru was picturing her tofu flying away with her patience, already worn out today. Mrs. Okubo was making it a point of honor to spread rumors about Himura since his arrival at the dojo. She had never hold him in her heart, seeing him as a simple weird thing living unabashedly at the crook of a young woman, and who, on top of it, behaved as such by doing house chores instead of finding himself a real man's work. Not to mention that his strange color of eyes and hair evoked those of a stranger.

From an outside point of view, no one could really blame her for being wrong. From an inside point of view, however ...

"Oh, I see ..." added the politely outraged old woman.

"Thank you for your concern, Okubo-san, but I'm in a hurry today!"

With that, Kaoru hastily greeted her neighbor.

"Take care of yourself and your adopted child, Kamiya-chan."

Strangely, Mrs. Okubo liked Yahiko. In spite of his bad temper - the pupil sometimes surpassed the master-, he was always struggling for the dojo, and contrary to the wanderer he had a clearly Japanese phenotype.

 _ _Now is not the time to start a debate with her ...__

Kaoru had tried several times to make her change her mind, but the ancestor was stubborn as a mule. She was not a bad person; in post-Bakumatsu Japan, it was still not well seen to be standing out of the crowd, and the wandering samurai with burning hair did not fit any frame. At best, people were turning on his path charmed by his exotic beauty, at worst he attracted venom and thunder from retrograde people and other xenophobes.

Annoyed by this unexpected meeting that had cost her a few precious minutes, the young Kamiya went on her way as quickly as possible. When she finally arrived at the market, many traders had already packed up. The large square was populated by only more than a few onlookers. She skillfully scrutinized the stalls.

 _ _Only tofu of poor quality remains ...__

The menu probably deserved to be reconsidered. Between rows of algae, tubers and fermented soybeans were some fresh fish brought from Tsukiji this morning.

 _ _Maybe I can buy octopus to change ... but the smell is likely to attract Sanosuke to come and eat as a pig...__

On the back wall was placed a row of ancient samurai armors of the Tokugawa Shogunate, in a mended state that witnessed of an eventful life. Become obsolete at the advent of the Meiji era, they were sometimes sold on the markets in hope of bailing out the fallen families of the old feudal system.

 _ _They would surely please Yahiko ...__

She stared at her purse, filled with only a few yen.

 _ _Too bad I don't have the money for that.__

Living only thanks to the income from kendo classes she was giving, she barely had enough to feed the many inhabitants of her dojo. The month's end was often difficult and it was rare that they could afford a trip to the Akabeko or an object other than those of primary need. To top it off, the young kendoka seemed to be the only one to worry about financial considerations. But if Kaoru sometimes regretted having to constantly count the pennies to avoid tightening her belt, she was above all happy to be surrounded by friends she could count on. A year of solitary life since the departure of her father -Kihei Hiruma, the traitor, no longer counting- had finished convincing her. Money was not happiness, and loneliness was the feeling she feared the most. Despite her impulsive character mainly due to her young age, Kaoru was very generous and it was naturally that people had come to graft at her always-open home.

 _ _This last year, things have been happening so fast ...__

It was as if the arrival of the wanderer had suddenly rushed every event. The somewhat lost girl who was crying over her father's absence was gradually becoming an accomplished woman who could manage her school and greet those dear to her. While she hardly counted other friends than Tae before, her entourage had enriched with many acquaintance become since valuable life companions. After Yahiko that she had adopted as a little brother came Sanosuke and his alter ego Megumi, a talented young doctor she had learned to appreciate despite their tumultuous beginnings, to whom were added friends of Kyoto including the impetuous Misao -with whom she corresponded regularly by mail after their departure from the old capital-, soon followed by other more anecdotal protagonists like Commissioner Uramura and his family ...

 _ _I don't see how I could be any happier ...__

She began to grab some food and put it in her bucket. Tonight's meal would be, after reflection - and financial considerations - mainly composed of vegetables.

 _ _But, Kenshin's reaction earlier ...__

Kaoru was thinking about the altercation she had with him just before going to the market.

 _ _I don't really like the way things are going. I appreciate that he's so attentive, but this time he was downright insistent.__

She was wondering how the reserved and independent wanderer she had met more than a year ago had become so possessive. Was it a personality trait he had hidden from her? And why just towards herself? Were there other things that he still kept inside him?

 _ _He knows, however, that I did manage well on my own before he arrived ...__

Because she was deep in thought, Kaoru did not hear the out-of-control wagon rushing toward her position.

"ABUNAI!"

She saw the panic in the eyes of the shopkeeper in front of her, but when she followed his gaze, the low light of the day 's end added to the dust raised by the hoofs of equines prevented her from decrypting the danger in time. The horses neighed, swiveling their heavy bodies at the last moment, but not enough to prevent the vehicule from crushing her.

 _ _Shimatta!__

Kenshin jumped from his position, cursing himself instantly for the seconds of laxity in his surveillance, and threw himself upon her with desperate speed. He only had time to use his body as a barrage, throwing Kaoru violently on the side of the road. He then retracted his abdomen in a superhuman reflex, assuring him to escape the worst, but not enough for his right arm to avoid passing under the wheel. The sickening noise of crushing was accompanied only by a muffled cry, in the middle of which was heard the sound of a bone breaking distinctly. The coachman pulled on the reins brutally, swearing with all his soul, stopping the vehicle a few yards further in a thick cloud of earth. Kenshin stayed briefly curled up in pain, before turning back to the young kendoka.

"Kaoru-dono, are you alright ?!"

Still on the ground, she was barely realizing what had just happened.

"Kenshin, what are you ... and your arm ...?"

The skin and muscle were torn over the entire upper limb, leaving just enough tissue on it to remain attached to the body despite the humerus' fracture. As the samurai got up all the while instinctively pressing his torn gi to stop the bleeding, concern was written all over his face. Not for him, but for his beloved.

But while he was about to go to her to help dust off her yellow kimono browned by the earth, Kaoru preparing on her side to deal primarily with the wanderer's wound wathever he would want it or not, a clamor cut the air behind them.

"Just what are you doing in the middle of the road ?!"

The driver, an honest merchant with his ten-year-old daughter visibly terrified by the incident, was furious. He was walking towards them, gesturing loudly.

"You could've knocked me and Tetsuko out!"

Kenshin immediately put his valid hand on his sword's shaft.

"You have put this woman in grave danger because YOU have lost control of your horse." His voice was cold. "Go away."

"Are you kidding ?!" pursued the man who was still angry. "Because of you my mare sprained its ankle and my wheel is practically twisted, you owe me repair!"

The vagrant turned abruptly towards him, two pleated amber eyes staring at his interlocutor.

"Go away. I will not repeat it."

"Kenshin ... stop."

Kaoru could feel the tension overrunning him. The muscles on his back were stretched to the limit.

 _ _He's mad because the accident could've hurt me ... The situation could quickly deteriorate ...__

"It's all my fault," she hastily pointed out to the trader who had stopped shortly after Himura's words, "please accept my apologies."

She knelt as politely as possible.

"Otosan, let's leave, please ..." Tetsuko was hanging up her father's sleeve. "His eyes, they're scarring..."

Seeing that his daughter was starting to cry, that the two people in front of him did not seem to have enough money for repairs anyway and above all distinctly feeling the threatening aura that was radiating from the strange redhead before him, Toshinobu chose the most rational way out. He had also known the fights of Bakumatsu before becoming an art dealer and knew where to place his own limits. His safety and that of his beloved child was worth more than this. He turned back cautiously, still uttering some exaggerated remarks of circumstance in his beard.

"Otosan, that man, would he have killed us ...?" the little girl sobbed as he pulled her up on the leather seat of the cart. For sure, her next nights were going to be filled with nightmares of a yellow-eyed demon with red hair.

"Forget about it, Tetsuko. Your mother will cook you a nice dinner as soon as we get back home. Nothing bad happened."

 _ _'Better not joke with this samurai ...__

"Hm!"

Tetsuko was not entirely convinced by her father's words, but she was reassured that their vehicle was moving away at a good pace, far from the man who had caused her such fear.

Kenshin was standing there, watching the cart until it disappeared from sight.

"... we have to go to Megumi right now to heal your arm." Kaoru reasoned, worried about the amount of blood quickly accumulating on his gi.

Kenshin stared at her from top to bottom. Even though they had regained their violaceous color, his eyes were still narrowed.

"I'm unhurt, everything is fine." she continued, trying to calm the mood. _Unlike you..._

He grabbed her hand firmly.

"Let's go."

"Wait, don't you want us to try fixing your wound at least, this could be pretty painful until we make it home..."

He pulled her with him, gently but without giving the woman any choice but to follow him. Kaoru was carried away, not without protest.

"And what were you doing here at the market in the first place?"

Kenshin did not answer. Deep down, he was still angry.

* * *

 _ ** _ **Next chapter:**_**_ Of flesh and bones

Happy Easter everyone!

(\ _ /)

(='.'=)  
(")_(")

* * *

Kaoruca: ...what can make our favorite wanderer so angry? I would say Love, of course ;+) No one can hurt you more than your loved ones ... and God knows he loves Kaoru more than his own life (even if his bitter-wounded heart often prevents him from telling her so). Saito will be seen all along the story, I've got evil plans for him too. Thank you so much for reviewing!


	8. Of flesh and bones

**_**Lexicon:**_**

Inrô: small lacquered black box containing several compartments

Isho dansu: kind of little dresser

Inula helenium: plant of the Asteraceae family, which can be used in herbal medicine for its antiseptic properties

Daijobu-dess: I'm fine

Ohayo: hello

* * *

 _ ** _ **Chapter 8:**_**_ Of flesh and bones

* * *

Alerted at the beginning of night, Megumi had arrived as quickly as she could, inrô filled with medicinal herbs in hand. Himura had stubbornly preferred to stop at the dojo instead of walking to the Oguni clinic, pretexting that he didn't want to disturb the old Dr Gensai sleeping there. He was sitting on his futon, right arm resting on a small isho dansu moved to his side for the occasion. All inhabitants of the dojo were gathered in his room.

"It's in a bad state ..." commented the doctor, raising her eyebrows.

"That's not very professional to say for a doc, kitsune!"

"Nobody asked you to be here, Sanosuke," she continued without letting herself being disturbed. "If you really want to know, the humerus is openly fractured, the tissues are torn from epidermis to epicondyle and the shoulder is dislocated ..."

She put his arm down carefully.

"I wonder how you were able to make it home in this shape."

With that, she gave him a glare heavy with reprimands.

"I will not ask you either, how you did get that wound."

"It was an accident," added Kaoru, who was feeling indirectly targeted, "a cart lost control and was about to overthrow me."

"... and Kenshin came to your rescue, that's it, Jou-chan?"

"... Hai."

The young kendoka still could not explain herself the presence of the wanderer at the market. But it wasn't time for such subjects. Not yet.

"This one would like you to examine her before taking care of himself," cut Kenshin. "Kaoru-dono was thrown violently to the side and may have been hurt too, that she could."

His beloved was about to protest loudly but the doctor took the lead, not without having made sure beforehand with the expertise of a look that the young woman was indeed unscathed.

"Don't be ridiculous Ken-san, as I've said your arm is in a sorry state. You did a good job stopping the bleeding before I arrived, but the blood loss could have been much greater."

Megumi lifted the fabric to reach the joint.

"Anyway, we'll have to suture immediately."

"Immediately?!" Kaoru alarmed herself.

"If we wait any longer, he might lose his mobility permanently. I won't have time to perform a proper anesthesia with mandrake root. Are you ready for an operation, Ken-san?"

"Do not worry, Megumi-dono, this one will be fine."

He gave Kaoru a deliberately reassuring smile, somewhat forced because of the pain generated by the untimely manipulations of the doctor at the same time.

"You two," Megumi ordered, pointing at the kendoka and her disciple, "Bring me boiled water to sterilize the material and prepare clean bandages. Lots of them!"

She then turned to the streetfighter, who had come at the dojo tonight in the hope of finding a hot meal - he had had a foreboding about an octopus - and who was accidentally involved in the situation. Sanosuke Sagara had a sixth sense when it came to trouble.

"Sanosuke, place yourself behind Ken-san and hold him."

"Huh?"

"This one does not think it is necessary ..."

"Hurry. I'll start by putting the shoulder back!"

Knowing that it was better not to discuss the injunctions of a doctor, the former Sekihotai quickly complied and leaned against his friend's back. Megumi took a deep breath, secretly praying for her first try to be the right one. Without allowing them time to think, the doctor jerked his arm out, taking care to seize it so as not to aggravate the lesion. The joint was put back into place in a distinct "plop". The samurai didn't even flinch or breathed. After a tough martial training during childhood followed by many years of war, he had seen others.

"It was by far the easiest." She warned. "Rebuilding this mess is going to be quite another matter."

With that, Megumi rolled up her sleeves, and arranged carefully her suture material on a sheet. It was at this moment that Kaoru and Yahiko returned to the chamber with the boiled water and bandages claimed.

"Thank you," said the young doctor, recovering the material, "you can go out now Yahiko."

"Don't treat me like a child!"

"It has nothing to do with age, even some adults cannot stand the sight of an operation. You might have a wish to throw up at one point or another..." She counted her instruments in her head. "Don't complain for not having been warned before."

"Hmpf"

The apprentice kendoka crossed his arms and leaned against the wall in a corner of the room, determined to be close of the action in case someone needed him.

 _ _A samurai's son must be strong ...__

Without wasting time, Megumi began pouring Inula's decoction into the wound to sanitize it. An infection could be much more serious than the loss of a limb. The muscles of the samurai tensed themselves under the effect of cold contact but his face showed nothing. She then grabbed her needle, some catgut thread, and began the extensive suture work that awaited her. She had to plant the instrument directly into muscular tissue in order to bring the fleshes closer together before being able to close the epidermis. For having suffered many katana injuries himself during his life, the wanderer knew that it was the best way to repair a muscle, and was therefore trying to be patient. Megumi was only stopping her sewing to apply at regular intervals the compresses stretched by Yahiko in order to stop the bleeding.

After more than half an hour of ligature, the doctor was now starting to work on the nerve tissue surrounding the joint. Kenshin remained silent, but was now perspiring heavily, teeth and fists clenched. Anxious to support him in her own way, Kaoru slipped her fingers into his on his valid arm's side. Sudden contact surprised him, but he didn't withdraw his hand.

"Kaoru-dono ... daijobu-dess."

He tried to hold a smile for her, but the pain that distorted his features was turning it into a wince. The doctor was still progressing patiently with her needle from the inside to the outside. Kenshin was squeezing Kaoru's hand more and more as the instrument moved toward the breaking site, too tightly for her. The young kendoka said nothing, worried instead about the harm that her beloved could feel.

"The fracture is incomplete and out of place," Megumi sighed. "I will need to finish the section of the humerus to be able to reposition it correctly afterwards."

A scent of horror floated briefly in the room. She began to cut the bone itself, leaning heavily on injured underlying tissues to increase her strength. Kenshin shrugged back abruptly, moaning against his will. He had solid experience in acute pain and recovery, but this was taking long... too long. And his body was starting to tire. Sanosuke recoiled reflexively, but the former assassin collapsed on him with pain.

"Sano, can you ..."

His forehead was soggy.

"Hai Kenshin, you can count on me."

The former Sekihotai moved back behind the wanderer, offering his torso in silent support. He didn't need to exchange more words to understand what his friend needed.

"Forgive me, Ken-san, I haven't done that often ..." Megumi completed. "The scalpel must not be sharp enough ..."

She cursed herself at this moment for having recovered the equipment of old doctor Gensai, not very cautious despite his advanced age. The young doctor sawed, split, pressed, but could not slice the fractured humerus despite all her efforts. And the sensation was getting unbearable. Kenshin finally grasped the poor woman's hand.

"Let..." he released his breath loudly. "Let this one do it."

"Are you sure?"

Without a word Kenshin grabbed the scalpel with his left hand and replaced it all the while slightly trembling. Getting ready to slice his own femur. This vision was on the verge of sustainable for young Yahiko, who came out of the room at full speed. Definitely, he was going to vomit.

The former assassin cut the bone in a supple gesture, with too much ease for not coming from a long term habit, then suddenly released the utensil while his head tilted back. His eyes were closed and he was breathing loudly.

Sanosuke realized that he was not far from losing consciousness, and supported his skull at the base, his hand firmly planted at the root of red hair. He wrapped his other arm around his chest to prevent him from slipping further down.

Kaoru took the hand that was now hanging by his side and felt immediately that he had lost strength. Tested by the scene she had just witnessed, she glared at her friend.

"Megumi, wait ..."

"I know. I'm sorry, but we shouldn't loose time."

Undeniably professional, Megumi waited a few moments for him to regain his senses, then quickly began the suture in tight points, so as to wedge the humerus in the desired position. The sooner she was finished, the better the member's functional prognosis would be.

The remaining work went without complication, but lasted several hours because of the amount of tissue damage. The samurai stayed modestly silent the rest of time except for a few involuntary moans, but his face spoke volumes about the harassment that the operation had caused on his body.

"Your arm will be unusable for several weeks, if not a few months concerning kenjutsu." the doctor concluded, massaging her temples, exhausted also by the concentration that all this intervention had required. "I advise you not to be too agitated as long as the bone is not soldered yet."

"Arigato, Megumi-san. This one does not know what he would do without your help, that he does not."

He smiled at her again despite his drawn features. Megumi blushed slightly.

"Well, try not to hurt yourself any more in the future. Your limb may stay weak for a while. Take some rest, Ken-san."

"Hai ..."

He had dark circles under his eyes and a globally exhausted look. Once the dirty stuff was cleared of the place, with the help of Yahiko whose face had since recovered color, everyone left the room except Kaoru who remained to watch over the samurai. Tired by the intervention, he was quickly carried away by sleep, while their two hands tied since the beginning of the operation remained coiled one into the other.

"Hey kid, go to bed, you're still yellow!" sneered Sanosuke as they reached the corridor.

"That's not funny. Unlike you, I am positively not used to breaking people's limbs every day!" the apprentice kendoka quipped, closing the door of his room under the streetfighter's nose. A whole night's sleep would be good for everyone.

"Wanna me to come with you, Kitsune?" proposed the former Sekihotai

"Do whatever you want, I'm too tired to argue tonight."

"It's pretty late. You know, Jou-chan wouldn't mind if you slept at the dojo."

"I hear, but I prefer going back to the clinic. Contrary to you, I have a job. People don't stop getting sick on the pretext that I had an emergency in the night ..."

"Then it's decided, I'm going with you."

* * *

To solve a case, there is nothing like going to the field by yourself.

The Shinsengumi's former third captain had assembled that day a fine team of volunteers - actually self-appointed by the authoritarian officer using loud invectives - among police agents in Tokyo, and he had left to skim the campaign before sunrise. Many disturbing disappearances had been reported in this area of Kanto.

But after a few hours of searching, several dilapidated houses visited and so many reports from his subordinates to the ear, Saito came to the exasperating conclusion that on the one hand the only close relative - who turned out to be an uncle of the missing victim - had died of tuberculosis last week, and therefore it was impossible for him to see the man to get any clue, and that some villagers had also heard about another orphan's disappearance in a neighboring town but without being able to tell him anything else. To complete the picture, in a hamlet as remote, residents didn't trust them and it was consequently quite difficult to obtain consistent information. For those who knew how to speak comprehensively in the local language, it goes without saying.

 _ _What else now__ , grumbled the officer, grinding his teeth, __I'd have to question a dead man about the circumstances of an abduction__ .. _. Such a great way to progress_ _ _!__

He cast a glare at his teammates, who suddenly hastened to find a primary occupation -no matter what it was. Saito had a firm wish to pass his frustration on someone, and the presence of his incompetent acolytes only exacerbated this feeling. The latter seeing the nauseous mood of their superior then became more nervous, which had the harmful effect of further stoke the said bad mood ... What a beautiful day in perspective for the capital city's police forces!

The only thing Saito knew this day was that the victim was a girl who was barely a dozen years old at the time of her abduction. And she was rather cute, according to the words of an old scrawny villager, penniless and perverse, for what it was worth as an information. All this walking was enough to annoy the police agents, who were beginning to wonder if this story of disappearances had a beginning and an end.

"Well, at least we have a new track," he sighed. "And nothing indicates that all these victims are dead yet."

The troubling point of the whole affair was that they indeed had so far found no corpse, definitely guiding the officer towards the otherwise murky assumption of a traffic. They had left very early this morning to conduct the inquiry, order of officer Fujita, and he intended to use the whole investigation's day. They would turn back the land, the houses, the slobs that inhabited them (again, according to officer Fujita), until his police squadron finds any clue, should they die of hunger or fatigue during the said process. Saito was not a man of compromise, and he had every intention of giving the Tokyo police station the scoop of capturing these traffickers.

* * *

All the inhabitants of the Dôjô Kamiya, with the exception of Megumi, slept for a long time until almost noon. While the household was slowly waking up from its restless -not to say traumatic- night, Kaoru, who was intending to prepare the meal exceptionally, met the wanderer as he was leaving his room.

"Ohayo!"

"Ohayo, Kaoru-dono."

He was still a little pale because of blood loss, but his features were less tired than the previous day. She watched his wrapped arm with a desolate look.

"You should better stay in bed... How's the pain?"

"It's nothing, that it is."

He gave her a kind smile. Kaoru, however, had a point that remained stubbornly in her mind since the incident. And the previous operation didn't give her the opportunity to talk of it.

"Listen Kenshin, we need to talk about what happened yesterday..."

"This one was right."

"Well... Thank you for saving me, but ..." She crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't really appreciate you following me without me knowing it."

"You should have listened to me."

Kaoru was beginning to be tired of hearing that same protective speech all the time. The wanderer could be pretty obtuse when he got into it.

"Kenshin, I'm not a fragile little thing that must be protected at all costs!"

"The driver was coming right in front of you! If this one had not been there, the force of the impact could have ..." The last part of the sentence choked in his throat. "... killed you!"

"It was an accident! You cannot lock me in a cage!"

"I..."

The wanderer's smile was starting to fade.

"I won't faint into the wild just because I'm leaving your field of view!"

"What this one means is..."

Expressing his feelings had never been easy. Deep inside, Himura was a strongly introverted man.

"I've been living alone for a year, I don't need you to get by myself!"

He took a deep breath, trying to keep his control in place.

"Kaoru-dono. I forbid you to put yourself in danger like that."

"But you're not my father! And then it's because of you that I was lost in my thoughts, I was thinking about this damn argument between us and ..."

"ENOUGH!"

He suddenly entwined his valid arm around her, preventing the young woman from formulating her answer.

"Enough..."

He was hugging her very hard against his robust body. His voice became a whisper.

"I was afraid of losing you ... I will not bear it a second time."

"Kenshin ..."

Kaoru, overcome by remorse, quickly lost the urge to counter-argue. She returned his hug, shyly placing her hands on his back. Kenshin's eyes were closed.

 _ _I must remember that this man had a complicated life ...__

"I can't believe it, just take a room to do that!" Yahiko exploded as he reached the end of the corridor before turning back abruptly.

"Yahiko, that's not what ..."

Kaoru spontaneously tried to free herself, but the wanderer didn't let go of his embrace. On the contrary, he squeezed his arm even harder. He was patently not paying attention to the presence of the apprentice kendoka. She knew that the samurai, usually very withdrawn, had felt his presence long before he arrived.

 _ _I hadn't imagined how much this could upset him ...__

"Kenshin ... I understand what you can feel but ... You must not give in to your fears."

"This one ..."

He put his mouth in the hollow of her ear.

"... This one hears what you are telling him. You need your freedom, even though it may threaten your security, Kaoru-dono. However ..."

"However?"

"... this one doesn't care."

* * *

 _ **Next chapter :**_ The heart has its reasons... that reason ignores

* * *

Kaoruca : Thank you so much ! I'm so glad to have a reader's point of view, and it gives me motivation for future writing! :+) That is indeed a nice quote (I wish I could remember when they said that). I don't think Kenshin could ever hurt a merchant and his daughter, but he can get pretty angry when it comes to his loved ones... and sometimes he forgets (or fail) to hide it. I personnally don't picture him as a schizophrenic person with one battousai and one rurouni personality apart (altough I wrote it that way in one of my very very old fic, more than 10 years ago) but rather as a strongly hot-blooded man with a tight and severe self control to compensate, a traumatic past and a too kind / idealistic heart. Besides, he was a rather scarry man before meeting Tomoe (thanks to whom he avoided madness). I hope you'll like what I share!


	9. The heart has its reasons

_**Lexicon :**_ (nb: I never repeat the explanation for words I've already mentioned once in an older chapter, but if you want me to do it again each time they come back, just tell me!)

Haa / Hai : yes

Kodachi : short saber, ancestor of Wakizashi

Zabuton : large flat cushion designed to sit on it (literally: futon-seat)

Takoyaki : dumplings with octopus pieces inside

* * *

 _ **Chapter 9 :**_ The heart has its reasons, that reason ignores

* * *

The new wound of the samurai was an additional opportunity for the team of Kamiya dojo to be reunited. Doctor Takani was regularly checking that the surgical site didn't become infected, and Sanosuke was coming unofficially to protect the dojo of any danger during the incapacity of the samurai / officially to take advantage of a free meal, to avoid hurting the said samourai's feelings. This afternoon, men and women were discussing apart from each other, Yahiko playing on his own side with the dog, who was roaming like an insane animal behind the young boy in the garden. Kaoru and Megumi's conversation didn't interest him, and Sanosuke had made him understand with an electric glare that he didn't wish for him to be part of his discussion with Kenshin. The apprentice kendoka had thus decided to have fun with the only person obviously pleasant in this place : Lychee.

In the north angle of the garden, near bamboos in leaf, the atmosphere was more serious.

" I wanted to ask ya... " began the streetfighter.

Sanosuke had in mind during this last weeks the evening they had spent together in the small Izakaya, at the end of which he had brought home his dead drunk friend. Not that a good binge drinking from time to time did disturb him, but it was unusual on behalf of the wanderer, and the context had not looked like a festive one. They never had the opportunity to talk about it again, the streetfighter desperately not knowing how to engage the subject with a man deep inside so uncommunicative. And Kenshin was doing nothing to help him right now, because he didn't even raise an eye after his sentence. Direct way thus appeared to him - as often - the best.

"...You bein' totally wasted at the Izakaya, is it because of Jou-chan? "

" Sano... "

The wanderer frowned. He was slightly annoyed by the unpleasant memory, but at least Sanosuke had obtained his attention. The former Sekihotai pursued.

" Moreover, Jou-chan told me tha' you and her had quarrelled just before the accident with the carriage. She worries about ya, y'know. "

" Kaoru-dono worries about this one? "

The wanderer immediately felt a reek of guilt invading him. Which did not go unnoticed by Sanosuke, because his face had at the same time tightly tensed, and he understood that he'd said the wrong thing. He tried another approach.

" It's the new mission with Saito that bothers ya? "

"..."

" Kenshin? "

" Haaa. "

The former Sekihotai had the impression that all of this was only a part of the truth, the positive point being nonetheless that his friend wasn't trying to hide him his gloom with absurd smiles anymore. Several punches since the beginning of their friendship had been necessary to come to this result, but now Kenshin was at least more natural with him than with the girls whom he was always trying to protect.

"Ya don't have to go there, if ya don't want to," suggested the streetfighter.

"This one has to."

Sanosuke stomped a bunch of pebbles in front of him.

"That's it, it's his damned mission?! I knew it, I hate this guy, he always pulls ya in dirty business!"  
 _  
Fuc-n' wolf! Always seeing him as the Battosai; always dipping back him into his past!_

"Do not judge him so severely," answered the wanderer as if he was reading in his thoughts. "He and I are sharing the same sense of justice. This one would have gotten involved in this affair with or without his intervention, that he would have."

He stretched his reverse-bladed katana in front of him, gripping it tightly. His look was darker than usual.

"This is the way I have chosen to amend my crimes ... It will be so until my death."

 _The way of the sword_ noted bitterly the streetfighter. _But he wasn't so affected by his previous missions... something's wrong with this business._

" It's a traffic case, isn't it? "

" Hai. " His jaw squeezed up more still. "This one thinks it's slavery. "

" Then that's because it's about kids? "

"I... don't know. "

He looked like he was truly hesitating.

" I mean... Ya never speak 'bout your childhood? " continued Sanosuke, feeling that he had touched a sensitive issue.

Himura sighed, but his face showed no emotion.

" To be honest... this one remembers very little. This one was too young when his parents died, that he was. "

"... Could ya try to tell me about it nevertheless? "

The samurai let a long silence extend between them. Before eventually answering him.

" There is nothing very interesting, that there is... Merely fuzzy memories like faces or voices... " He narrowed his eyelids. A ditty, that his mother often hummed, and which had long ago warmed the heart of the son he had briefly been in the past, had just come back to him.

His voice took a grave tone.

" Then there was a cholera epidemic, death, and... "

He broke off, closing abruptly his eyes.

"... Children are not made to suffer. "

" Kenshin... "

Sanosuke could almost feel for an instant his pain hanging in the air. He moved a hand forward to the shoulder of his friend, but this one straightened the head while smiling to him.

"Daijobu, Sano. This one thanks you for worrying about him, but it's not worth it, that it's not."

"To hell with this masquerade!" The former Sekihotai angered immediately. "I'm not fuckin' blind, I can see very well that somethin's wrong! Don't ever try to use this damned smile ya give the girls with me!"

Sanosuke kicked on the ground, making this time the innocent plants of bamboo tremble.

"... That's how ya value our friendship?"

He was fixing his friend intensely.

"Tell me the truth, Kenshin."

The wanderer sighed again, deeply this time.

"It is true that ..."

"...?"

"This one sometimes feels like…"

He hesitated again, seeming to look for the words that would be right. His voice vanished with the rising wind, carrying the first fallen leaves to the ground. He grabbed one with a single gesture.

"A stranger... in this reality..."

Sanosuke froze for a few seconds, frowned, then finally rested his hand on the shoulder of his friend who had briefly closed his eyes. Guessing what such a confession implied, his tone softened.

"Hey ... don't let the past overtake you, Kenshin."

The former assassin said no more. In his distant purple eyes, scenes were replaying in places that the ashes had since covered, in moments that time had since buried. His memory as his heart, a vast field of ruin.

"... I know it's not easy, but we're all present to support ya. Here and now," he continued in a low voice.

He shook his shoulder a little, but the former Ishin Shishi remained of stone, absorbed in his thoughts. His deeply melancholic gaze was mingled with blind sadness.

The streetfighter groaned inwardly.

Kenshin was no longer with him.

At the same moment, Yahiko was crossing the garden from one end to the other at lightning speed, dog firmly attached to a string behind him, but no one paid any attention to it.

Megumi and Kaoru were also busy discussing. They had reached on the thorny subject of their connections with men. Or more exactly, Megumi was urging the young woman to give her informations on the progress of her relationship with the wanderer, what the latter made with so much savings as possible. In fact, the doctor was still fearing that she wasn't able to take care of the samurai who had such a complex character. Although she appreciated that her interlocutor sometimes behaved as the sister - even the mother - she had not known, Kaoru was annoyed that she was systematically doubting her abilities as a woman. Because, at soon eighteen years old, she was really beginning to become a woman.

"... What happened before the accident? Ken-san wouldn't have been run over by a carriage trying to protect you, if he had been able to intervene in time." Megumi pushed her hair back with a movement of the head. "... did he weaken faster than I expected?"

" I don't think so. We weren't supposed to be together. " She sighed. "He followed me down there."

"Oh... it is quite a different problem then."

" Lately, he has become... nearly possessive. And sometimes authoritarian with me. "

The two young women were carefully glaring at each other.

"... you're the only one with whom he's behaving this way. Take that as a proof that he cares for you."

"I know it, but... he's so intense sometimes that it's exaggerated. I don't know what to do, Megumi."

"... give him some time. Be patient. Knowing everything he's been through so far, loving someone again must be particularly difficult for him."

She opened wide eyes.

"... do you think he really loves me?"

The doctor immediately gave her a pat on the back of the skull.

"Just tell that kind of nonsense again and you'll have to deal with me! You did not see how he reacted after your fake death!" Her interlocutor was rubbing her head on the impact point, slightly offended. "He literally broke down, before collapsing at Rakuninmura!"

Kaoru sighed again. It was a subject that the samurai had never approached with her, but about which she had since heard from her friends.

"Rather than constantly talking about me," she suggested, "tell me more about you ... and Sanosuke?"

Feminine instinct was a tremendous thing. Megumi automatically shot herself down.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Come on... you take care of him more than any of your patients. You're always looking for a new cure or whatever potion to relieve his fist."

"You talk about me as if I'm some kind of witch!" pointed out Megumi, noticeably upset. "Anyway, I guess you're somewhat right..."

Kaoru was listening her attentively.

"It's not that I don't appreciate Sanosuke -attention, I'm not saying that I like him either, huh, but ..."

She slipped her hand into her hair, which she had incredibly long and of a shiny black color. Her straight cut bangs were emphasizing refined features, highlighted by a plum make-up on her lips and a distinguished perfume with floral finishes. Kaoru was envying her beauty, which she was associating with that of a mature woman. Ironically, she was unaware of the effect she produced herself on the samurai, who was, as for him, much older.

"... our lives are taking very different paths, and I don't want to think about that yet," continued the doctor. "I know I'm over the age of getting married, but I want to finish my medical training first. To rebuild what my parents have lost in Aizu ..."

 _To find my roots..._

"I can understand that. Even I have taken back the Dojo of my father and the values he was teaching when he has disappeared ..."

The two women were suddenly serious again. Yahiko and Lychee, meanwhile, were rolling on the ground not far from them, forming an indistinct human-animal mass.

"... It's simply not the right time," continued the doctor. "I need my freedom to achieve this purpose."

 _Maybe that if our paths had crossed a few years later..._

For a brief moment, Megumi lost herself in her thoughts. Her pragmatic mind, however, quickly caught her up.

"... well, „Maybes" are useless." she concluded, shaking her head. "But you, Kaoru, you've still got a lot to do with Ken-san!"

The friends turned their gaze to the two men at the opposite corner of the garden, who were occupying the heart of their conversation. They were standing next to each other and seemed lost in their thoughts. But while he was being monopolized by Sanosuke, Megumi's sharp eyes noticed something abnormal with the wanderer. His upper limbs showed a slight tremor and a thin layer of sweat was beading on his skin, his complexion barely icteric. Hardened by years of exploiting drugs to improve their addiction while working for the businessman Kanryû Takeda, Dr. Takani knew how to recognize a withdrawal syndrome when she was seeing one.  
 _  
...Opium?_

Her brain began working at full speed.

 _No, his pupils are not dilated... then alcohol?_

"Megumi-dono!"

The wanderer turned around abruptly in her direction, closing his eyes with his smile.

"Is everything ok?" he called out, questioning her.

"Ken-san ..." Megumi stammered, her heart suddenly leaping into her chest.

 _But how does he always know when someone is looking at him?_

"... Yes, everything is fine. I was wondering, how is your arm?"

"Oro? Very well, this one can again move the elbow, that he can. You did a good job."

With that, he again smiled broadly. The tremor she had observed earlier had completely disappeared.

 _I don't see why Ken-san would do such a thing..._ _He's been probably just practicing his katas before we arrived._ She closed her eyes for a moment. _By working so much I end up seeing sick people everywhere!_

Megumi immediately drove away any ridiculous thoughts of her mind.

"I'm glad to hear it. Don't overuse it, keep in mind that if you press on it you could break the bone again at the same place."

" Hai hai. "

The streetfighter, whose belly had begun to gurgle, was approaching the newly formed group.

"Since the arm seems to heal, why not celebratin' it around a good sukiyaki?" he suggested, ostensibly forcing the cheerfulness of his voice (one can never know, to quote someone famous : based on a misunderstanding, this could work).

"That's amazing, you just never lose an opportunity to eat for free!"

"Mind your own business, Yahiko-chan ! It's not like you're bringing back money for the Dojo too!"

"I work at the Akabeko, precisely, in case you're ignoring it!"

"It's true that it's been a while since I've last seen Tae, I'd be happy to talk to her again..." Kaoru pointed out.

 _Having another opinion than that of Megumi would be nice..._

Sanosuke sent a winning glance to the apprentice kendoka. This one did not answer, himself already absorbed in his thoughts at the idea of finding back the nice Tsubame.

"Are you coming with us, Lychee?" the wanderer offered while addressing the animal a friendly smile.

The little dog barked happily in his direction. As the days went by, he was finally getting used to Kenshin's presence. He had gradually integrated into his canine brain that although he could not understand the real emotions of this human or feel him when he was approaching, he had a systematically peaceful behavior towards him. Lychee had therefore finally accepted him as one of his masters, and was even showing lately signs of affection.

"Then it's decided : everyone at the restaurant!" proclaimed the assistant master of Kamiya Kasshin, whose stomach was also beginning to show signs of weakness.

The whole team of the Dojo thus went on the road, in search of a dinner with Western flavors.

* * *

 _These... these short and skin-tight pants... It is totally indecent!_

Since when had the child he knew evolved into such an attractive young woman? If on the outside, the dark-haired man appeared almost in a permanent state of meditation to the others' eyes, inside, he was a sleeping volcano. The young woman had become a permanent self-control test for the brave Shinomori. A few more months doing that and he was definitely going to be transformed into a monk.

A metallic sound was heard. Aoshi instantly refocused on the current mission.

"Did you hear that?" whispered the young ninja, narrowing her emerald eyes.

Both of them stopped. They gestured to Omazu, Kuro, Shiro and Okon to do the same. Following the report of one of their informants, the fine team of Kyoto's Oniwaban-shu had gone to investigate an old shed near Yawara at south of the former capital. The place was supposed to be abandoned since the end of the Tokugawa era - many peasants having lost their land after the cutting and redemption laws of the new Meiji government-, yet the surrounding villagers had reported seeing people with unfamiliar faces going back and forth inside of it, mainly at night. An information that was disturbing enough for them to come and give it a glance. Only Okina had stayed at the Aoiya, his age no longer allowing him such an escapade, although he was still officially pretending to have to take care of the inn instead.

The old shed, rather picturesque in appearance, was actually quite big once inside. It was still dilapidated and dusty, but it had an interesting network of cellars. The former owners probably had to organize a hiding system in order to protect themselves from the frequent lootings during the Bakumatsu. They had not met anyone yet, but the metallic noise they had heard didn't misled the vigilance of Kanryu's bodyguards former chief. Aoshi protectively put an arm in front of Misao, and unsheathed. The man hitherto hiding in the dark didn't need to be asked twice, and instantly burst upon him. The former Okashira ran to meet him, reducing the space that separated them in a few steps, imperceptibly bent his knees, and received the man directly with his kodachis. Who collapsed on the ground, inanimate. Misao then fired a series of kunai on the other shadowy areas of the poorly lit hallway, forcing almost as many opponents to reveal themselves. The rest of the fight was quick, since in this limited environment clashes could only be done one-on-one, forcing almost every enemy to confront the dangerous Aoshi present at headline. One of them, however, managed to pass his guard and rushed on the small ninja with brown tresses that seemed to be the weakest. He pointed his wakizashi at her only to meet a kunai in resistance. The young woman, however, was lacking brute force, and the blade was going closer to her neck a little more every passing second. She jumped suddenly and threw her foot with all her strength into the assailant's crotch. As he stifled a cry of surprise (and pain), the other four ninja threw themselves on his body to control him, but Aoshi's kodachi came crashing down in his neck before. Thus, within less than fifteen minutes, the Oniwabanshu of Kyoto ended up alone again in the shed.

"It would have been interesting to be able to question them," Omasu pointed out to former Okashira, who had not spared any of his opponents. "We're still here to investigate, and so far we haven't been able to extract any information from them."

"They have thrown themselves on us." he replied simply, sheathing his two short swords.

Truthfully, he was beginning to work deep inside him the idea of subjecting his opponents without necessarily executing them. Influence of a certain samurai with cruciform scar ... However, not killing when practicing the deadly art of the sword was requiring a lot of experience and control, much more than just slaughtering one's enemy. To put it honestly, it was even infinitely more difficult ... Aoshi had realized this recently by trying to practice it. This was partly explaining the difference of level between Battosai and him in combat, which the former Okashira, nevertheless strongly skilled, had not detected before their duel. If this knowledge would have avoided the great disappointment that had followed it, it would also have prevented him from finding back his true family, there at the Aoiya. So, despite the bitter taste of defeat, Shinomori didn't regret anything that had happened at Mount Hiei.

"They must have been the rear guard," Misao suggested. "They were nor numerous nor very talented!"

As an ultimate act of fighter's coquetry, she was trying to hide the bruise on her neck with her hand.

"Let's see if we can find something interesting here," Aoshi added.

Whereas the young Makimachi was twirling from room to room like a butterfly, her comrades were taking time to observe each corner.

 _Impossible to detect anything at this pace_ , reflected the former Okashira while watching her waving needlessly. In fact, he was secretly appreciating her liveliness, which was contrasting so much with his own character, and her long brown braids, that were dancing in volutes around her.

The rest of the building was empty, but there were traces of recent human activity.

 _People have been here... lots of people._

Footsteps, some corresponding to children's feet, were on the floor. Hair, excrement and some traces of blood also...

 _Looks like the occupants had to leave hurriedly, since complete cleaning isn't done..._ _Or maybe they just didn't care about erasing their tracks?_

Misao suppressed a heave, but the other ninjas, more experienced, remained of marble. On a wooden desk at the bottom of a windowless room, they found a bunch of useless scrolls, lands and seas maps without annotations, absurd erotic prints, and what appeared to be a transactional document. Its content was dealing with the arrival and departure of various goods, none being explicitly named as a human being, yet the data seemed laboriously and unnecessarily encrypted. Aoshi grabbed the obviously used worn yellow sheet for the police forces.

"This paper might be useful for them ..."

* * *

Tae lowered her eyes on the ball of red and white fluff at her feet that was looking at her with love. Or with appetite, depending on the point of view. They were surrounded by the nice-smelling steams of the Akabeko.

" I think all of you are very well aware that dogs are not admitted in my establishment. " indicated the young boss, narrowing her eyes.

"Did ya hear that, mutt? " Sanosuke giggled with a triumphant look. " No meat for you this evening! "

The canine sneezed "accidentally" in his direction.

" It's not just a dog, it's Lychee! " pleaded Yahiko. " He's living at the dojo now... He knows how to behave ; he won't disturb anyone I promise you! "

As any respectable storekeeper, Tae Sekihara made a quick calculation in her head. The apprentice kendoka often came to help them at the restaurant, not always asking for a salary. She sincerely suspected that his presence was mainly linked to that of the shy and delicate Tsubame, but he had nevertheless saved them numerous times of difficult situations, particularly in summer when tourists were flourishing like weeds in an unkempt garden. To resume, he was someone she could count on. Kaoru was a childhood friend whom she was loving like a sister. Sanosuke was a hideous debtor whose loan was probably extending until a generation which would never be born. And Kenshin meanwhile... had rescued them many times, but had also almost as often involuntarily endangered them, not to say nearly led to the destruction of her restaurant and the one of her dear sister Sae in Kyoto, in more than one occasion. He was remaining, however, the inveterate lover of her dear friend.  
The manager sighed.

" I am willing to make an exception because it's you, " she continued. " But I wouldn't like my regular customers to see someone with an animal ; they could get the wrong idea. Follow me, I will take you to the second room! "

The restaurant's highest (and only) stage was smaller but warmer than the large dining room situated on the ground floor. Its atmosphere was discreetly sieved, and at the center of tatamis was throning an already-set low table, surrounded by zabutons stuffed with buckwheat's pods. Oil lamps were enlightening the whole scene.  
Sanosuke sat spontaneously (and loudly) alongside Megumi, Kaoru and Yahiko facing them. Kenshin took a seat at the end of the table, near a large wooden window overlooking the floor below.

The young waitress entered the room a few moments later, arms overflowing with foodstuffs and culinary equipment necessary for the consumption of the dish recently imported from the West, of which the Akabeko had made its speciality.

"Need some help, Tsubame? "

" N-no thanks, Yahiko... but you're a customer today. "

He answered by a proud smile. The little brunette put the pot made of cast iron in the center of the table, cheeks suddenly becoming scarlet. She then placed many bowls filled with konjac, tofu, various raw vegetables and shungiku or edible chrysanthemums as well as finely chopped beef, all to be dipped in the broth of warishita sauce then again into an individual bowl containing beaten egg, before finally being tasted. Sukiyaki was by definition a convivial dish.

Tsubame brought then the beverages, before greeting politely and withdrawing. Sanosuke poured himself a glass of saké and did the same for Kenshin, who accepted with a nod. He proposed it the to the girls, but both of them refused politely. As usual, Yahiko tried to jump on the bottle, before his master forbids him. The dog was laying down quietly beside him.

" Lychee is a great companion, " said Yahiko, stroking the animal's head. " Ever since he's with us, the dojo is much more alive! "

" I must admit that although I was thinking at first that he would only be another mouth to feed, I finally got really attached to this redheaded little thing!" completed his master, finely aware of the double meaning in her sentence.

"...Oro?"

" Look! Come on Lychee, do a trick for me! "

The boy held a piece of meat above the dog. He sniffed at it, blinked, then wisely lifted his fluffy paw. Yahiko rewarded him immediately by putting the piece in his mouth. Sanosuke could have sworn that the animal had sneaked at him before devouring his new trophy.

"Beef, a precious slice of beef ..." he grumbled, salivating.

" He's amazing, isn't he? He has learned this trick very quickly! " commented the apprentice kendoka.

" Mmh, maybe he did belong to somebody else before getting lost? Someone who'd have taught him to do that? " Kaoru suggested.

" Poor dog... " Yahiko continued "... Wait, did you just imply that I have no merit for his education?"

" I still don't understand how you can cling to this stinking pet, " concluded the former Sekihotai, eager to change the subject. " By the way, Kenshin, how's Saito's investigation going? "

Kenshin poured himself another drink. He had not touched his food yet.

" This one feels like they're having difficulties, that they do. They have even asked the Oniwabanshu for help on this case. "

" The Oniwabanshu?! So this fu- business goes much further than Tokyo. The damn wolf's gonna have fun... "

"It makes me think about poor Misao," added Kaoru while remembering herself of the fire and ice couple. " She's not ready to have what she wants with a man as cold as Aoshi... "

"Speak for yourself, you're not more advanced with K-" *CRAC*

The bowl of warashita sauce - mystically empty- crashed into the figure of the apprentice kendoka.

"Yahiko, that's none of your business!"

"Ah, so Aoshi and Misao are more of your concern?"

"Don't mix things up!"

Master and disciple thus began a legitimate duel of glare. The voices of the customers from below were raising.

"Stop performing, I remind you we're in a restaurant," sighed Megumi, who had long since abandoned the idea of staying proper at their side.

"As if you didn't stick indecently to Kenshin as soon as you get the chance, kitsune!" replied the streetfighter.

"Oro?"

Megumi rewarded Sanosuke with a hell glare. Definitely, with the young doctor he was making a collection of them.

"Well. You do understand absolutely nothing, finally."

"... What d'ya mean?"

She waved her hand coquettishly in front of his face.

"That I have no lesson to receive from you, Sagara."

"Women ... always convinced that we guess what's goin' on in your pretty heads ..." he grumbled, swallowing his saké all at once.

"Hey! Stop comparing me with this vixen!" growled out the master of Kamiya-Kasshin, who had not lost the conversation's thread. "I always say what I think."

"And that's exactly what people blame you for, busu!"

"Good God! Have a little respect, Yahiko-CHAN!"

"Yare yare," Kenshin moderated, placing his hands in front of them,"Let's try to enjoy this sukiyaki together, that we should..."

"Um," decided otherwise the assistant master, suddenly worried about what her beloved might think. "You're right, we don't have that many occasions to be all gathered here ..."

Kaoru smiled back at him and grazed his hand while grabbing the bowl of shiitake. This tender gesture didn't go unnoticed, for the samurai's eyes for once mirrored his smile.

"Kenshin, you barely ate anything," the doctor noted.

"This one is at a bit of a disadvantage to catch beef slices, that he is, " he laughed, waving his chopsticks with his only valid arm. " This one is right-handed. "

" Don't you dare using your right arm, " Megumi continued. "The sutures are still fresh and could break without any warning, over and above the fact that I really don't want to redo your bandage. "

" Hai hai... "

The conversation went on well, and as the dinner was progressing, spirits were naturally warming up around the cast iron pot. Lychee was proudly sitting on his own zabuton and was yelping with joy, his stomach still gurgling with the digestion of his proteinate reward.

Sheltered from this agitation, the wanderer silently sipped other saké cups. He was observing the bustle in front of his eyes with an absent air.

After a while, the voices of the ground floor became more noisy. Kenshin rose from the table.

" Sumimasen, this one will be back soon, that he will. "

He came down on the floor below, where an argument had broken out. The rest of the team joined him immediately, also intrigued by the sudden increase in sound volume. At the center of the room, one above the other, a young couple was exchanging heated words.

" Are you sure you haven't forgotten it at home? "

" It's impossible, I had it on me when we arrived... "

" That's your fault, you're always losing things! "

Meiko was starting to lose patience. How could they avoid the dishonor of leaving without paying?

" I repeat you that it is none of my doing! " ShinIchi continued, gesturing nervously. " I've searched everywhere on the zabutons, under the table, even at the restaurant's entrance! I just don't understand... "

The man was now desperate, and raised in his panic an umpteenth time the same cushions. Kenshin calmly took place in front of him, greeting the man with a fast and low bow.

" Himura Kenshin... "

"... Listen, mister Himu- whatever, you can see that my wife and I are pretty occupied right now ! " replied the husband, somewhat annoyed by the untimely intrusion. " I apologize, but I have no time for you. "

" Please do not be upset, this one is certain that the situation could be settled easily. "

With a wave of his hand, Kenshin pointed to a man with patched clothes, situated on a table in diagonal across the room.

"... This mister here should be able to help you. "

"Huh… what are you talking about? " ShinIchi stammered, following the samurai's finger.

The said individual was sitting at a table with three companions, all carrying a barely concealed firearm at their hip. He quickly put back his share of meat on his plate and took an offended look.

" I don't see what you're insinuating! Who are you to accuse a gentleman? "

The wanderer gave him a polite smile.

"This one thinks that the game has gone on long enough, that he has. "

For any answer, the presumed culprit laughed coarsely.

" You stole the purse attached on ShinIchi-san's belt on his right hip when he turned to his wife to propose her some tea, right after sitting down," Kenshin finished patiently.

The man rose abruptly, instantly followed by his henchmen. One of the four chairs fell on the ground in a loud *crac*. Meiko and ShinIchi were watching the scene with a mixture of hope and apprehension. The tone of the accused had changed.

"Are you calling me a thief ?!" spat the individual.

He stared at the samurai, stopping impertinently on his broken limb surrounded by a bamboo splint.

"... And what on earth does a lame man like you think he can do?! You have no proof! "

Sanosuke moved closer to his friend, taking care to crack his fists ostensibly. For sure, he did not appreciate what he was hearing.

" Proofs can be easily found, you know " the streetfighter snarled.

" You also stole the purse of the young woman sitting by the window near the entrance, that you did, Abe-san, " the wanderer continued.

Kenshin's smile was remaining intact. The thief's face, however, had tightened at the mention of his first name.

" H-How do you know my name? "

" You are known as Abe Okamoto, right? "

As much as Abe he was looking at him, he couldn't remember having seen this samurai before. Redheads being rare enough here to be sure he would have kept their meeting in mind. He spontaneously touched his arm at his belt. Sanosuke cracked his fists again heavily. All the attention of the room was now focused on the small group. Tae was secretly praying that a scandal would not break out in her precious restaurant at this rush hour.

" Just who the hell are y-"

"Actually, it's been a few days since this one first saw you in the neighborhood," cut Himura in a still courteous tone. "You have already committed some offenses, that you did. Almost a dozen this week alone…"

" Are ya sayin' that it's not his first try here?! " Sanosuke growled, already feeling the adrenaline rising in his muscles.

 _When did Kenshin see this? I guess it's part of his job with the police... or did he follow him on his own?_

For some time, Himura was spontaneously participating in the protection of the neighborhood, sometimes in cooperation with the police. The former Sekihotai didn't remember, however, that he was recently given a case other than that of kidnapping.

"This one did not intervene because it was only pickpocketing. " he explained.

 _That's what I was doing too, before living with Kaoru and Kenshin..._ Yahiko was well recognizing his mentor, and his ability to judge the human being with wisdom and measure. He was watching the scene closely beside Tsubame and the other girls, ready from the start to intervene with Sanosuke to help the samurai in case of mayhem.

"I don't get it, what on earth does this have to do with you?! " cursed the thief. "You're not going to tell me you know my life now, do you?"

Abe had the uncomfortable feeling that the wanderer's smile was growing as the conversation went on. To be honest, the more he was talking to him, the less it really looked like one...

"... You are living in the district of Tsunohazu, but when the first hours of the day come up, you leave and commit your abuses here," the samurai cut again. "To get there you avoid the main road, but instead prefer the tight streets of Gai district, probably not to be followed. Wise decision."

Always that smile.

" Fuck off with your s- "

"When it comes to lunch, you often eat at the Gindako stall. Takoyaki, if this one remembers well. You told them you were seasonal at the port so that they would not be suspicious of you. Then from 14h, you start all this again in Omotesando neighborhood. "

An instinctive anguish began to win the thief. This was definitively not a smile.

 _He has literally tracked him down..._

Sanosuke was also feeling uncomfortable.

 _... he was the best assassin of the Choshu patriots, directly under Katsura Kogoro's orders. He probably had to watch, hunt and kill more targets than anyone in this city …_

" You are staying in a small house, and your wife is a florist. If this one is correct, you have a daughter too... What's her name already? Ah yes, Shizuka. You're a lucky man Okamoto-san, having a family is the greatest happiness."

Now Abe was clearly feeling a cold sweat running down his back. With a little imagination, he could have sworn to hear a Machiavellian laugh coming out of the redhead's mouth. The thief wasn't playing anymore.

"...You would not want to end up in jail and never see those you love anymore for this simple scam, do you?"

Kenshin stretched out his valid arm.

"Be reasonable, give them back their property."

With his bandaged member, feminine face and an almost small body, the redhead wasn't looking physically threatening at all. Yet, Abe had the disturbing sensation that he could lose much more than the only product of his thievery tonight…

He handed over without any hesitation the little leather bags containing the hard cash. Preventing his hand from shaking by doing this gesture required him a lot of energy.

"Do not ever come back here, Okamoto Abe." Kenshin finished in a firm voice.

The thief signaled his men to follow him and left the restaurant quickly, without even attempting to intimidate the wanderer with a threat of retaliation or to preserve what was remaining of his dignity as a thug. Tae released the breath she had been holding back almost since the beginning of this conversation.

Himura returned the lost purse to the relieved couple previously on the brink of rupture, as well as to the young woman near the window who had not even noticed the disappearance of her money yet, and then the whole team of the dojo Kamiya was able to return upstairs to savor the end of their sukiyaki peacefully. Sanosuke didn't forget to slap the wanderer's shoulder while going up the stairs.

"I wouldn't have been against a good fight, ya know ..."

Kenshin smiled at his friend. A frank smile this time, but still not reaching his eyes.

"This one prefers diplomacy by far."

The evening went on uninterrupted, and everyone at Akabeko - except for the former Sekihotai - was relieved that the altercation had ended peacefully.

Abe Okamoto and his men ran as far as they could when they reached the street. They stumbled, gasped, trembled, ignoring the cold of the night. The dull warning that was ringing between the samurai's lips and his terrifying amber gaze, promised them a fate worse than death...

* * *

 _ **Next chapter:**_ Memories of a snowy day

 **...Another 2 or 3 chapters before the story truly begins / accelerates. Get ready!** ; +)

*Author's complain* This was an almost twice longer chapter... I've been through hell to translate this ! Take pity and reward me with a small review... ToT

More seriously, I plan on making a huge correction of previous chapters someday, because every time I read them again I see a new mistake in my english or something that appears clumsy (or not exactly as I want). And I honestly just hate reading stories with a single mistake in my native language (yes, I'm a kind of psychopath), it gives me the feeling that the writer doesn't care about what he tells. Sorry for that (I wish I could have you reading the original version which is MUCH better -because I have to simplify lots of sentences to only be able traduce them *sniff*), I'll do my best to improve each time !

* * *

LadyDeprived : Yes ! I hope they will make the fourth film (which should have been done last year but was delayed because the actress playing Kaoru was pregnant... *gasp*) even with the sad news concerning the author. It would be such a pity knowing the previous ones were a huge success in Japan ! And we have so few animation from Jinchuu until now...

Queen Emily the Diligent : I'm so happy to hear from you again ! :+D

kaoruca : It is good to know we are sharing the same point of view ! I couldn't write something I believe could not happen. ;+) Thank you so much for your review !


	10. Memories of a snowy day

_**WARNING :**_ there is light lemon in this chapter. If you don't want to read some, just skip the longer portion in _italic_ at the middle of the third part !

 _ **Lexicon:**_

Anata : dear/ you

Yukata : a light kimono, can be used for the night

Ai shiteruyo : I love you (…well, did I really need to traduce this one ?)

* * *

 _ **Chapter 10 :**_ Memories of a snowy day

* * *

Night had fallen in the countryside near Kakegawa district. Hiko was staring at the fire he had lit with branches picked up near his makeshift encampment. He would sleep in nature tonight... to avoid people, because the weather had softened, but also because his purse had considerably lightened. All these material considerations, however, weren't worth much in his eyes ... In fact, he was thinking about the rumors he had heard all along the Tokaido road. Families were complaining about missing children, almost everywhere he had been. And it seemed like the case had grown for the government also, since he had crossed many police agents on the way. This had obviously not facilitated his own journey, because of the sword prohibition law, and had sometimes forced him to make detours to remain discreet. To outrun a policeman was, however, remarkably easy for him.

Apart from that, there was nothing special to report on the way...

 _... Then why can't I clear my stupid disciple out of my head?  
_  
He threw another branch into the fire. At one point or another, he would end up having the answer to this damned question... What the thirteenth master Hiten Mitsurugi did not suspect at that time, was that the said answer would prove to be worse than anything that he could have imagined. He was only approaching the Nissaka stage.

 _I should've taken the train ..._

* * *

Sanosuke Sagara was returning from an umpteenth evening of betting games, during which he had as always spent more money than he had won - his bad luck at games was legendary -, and mostly shared crude jokes with the other players. But all of this was just boring routine. Even if he was seeing them regularly, they were more drinking companions than anything else and he would have no difficulties to loose them from sight from one day to the next. Some of them had an honorable job, sometimes even a wife and children but they were still coming to spend their dearly acquired nest egg during parties between men.

 _Not that I care 'bout it, they do what they want with their life._

While he had been living most of his existence without looking at the next day or what the others were doing, an insidious thought had for some time begun to make its way into him.

 _... What about me? What do I really wanna do?  
_  
He was thinking about the last few months he had spent.

Some unimportant fights, evenings without a future ... Since Enishi's departure, nothing spicy had happened here. The scene of the bloody fight that had left his samurai friend both physically and morally worn out nontheless sneaked back to him.

 _... Well, 'guess it's better like that!_

As for him, his existence as Zanza was over since the wandered had showed him the right path during their clash, more than a year ago. After that incident, they had both become good friends despite their obvious differences.

 _Kenshin seems to have finally settled down and started a relationship with Jou-chan. Hopefully it won't be long before a descendant shows its pretty face... which means that soon they'll be busy and they'll need privacy. In short, they've their own lives to lead!_

Seeing his comrade of struggle advancing on his own side was saddening him a little, but he knew it was the normal course of events. At thirty years of age in Japan of early Meiji era, it was high time to settle somewhere and create a family. Only one detail was bothering him.

 _ _He's not really been himself lately. Nothing to do with his last visit at Rakuninmura, but...__

Despite all his efforts, he had not been able to earn a true explanation from him.

... __Well, as he'd said, he's just probably brooding on his past again... I guess all this crap's gonna take a hell of time to heal.__

It was a trait he had always known about the wanderer. His past was haunting him, and nothing could erase that. Not even the continued presence of his friends or the warmth of a home like that of the Kamiya dojo.

 _ _And then there's Yahiko who's moving on Tsubame... He's found his rhythm between the Akabeko and Kendo classes. In the coming years, he'll grow quickly...__

He frowned.

 _ _Do I have someone by my side?__

The image of a certain doctor with carmine-painted lips appeared to him for a moment. He sighed and swept it away.

 _ _Ahou! Megumi has her patients, and she wanna go back to Aizu.__

He had a complicated relationship with this woman. She was seductive, had abandoned her love at first sight for the samurai in favor of the young kendoka, and Sanosuke and she were since getting along as dogs and cats. He was feeling a certain affection for Megumi, probably more than a mere attraction – because, objectively, she was a very beautiful woman, but between their communication difficulties and the events that had never ceased to break out since their meeting, he had never had time to establish the authenticity of his sentiments. Even less to try making any advance. Suffice to say that the chances of a rapprochement between them were rotten from the start.

 _ _And then, she has her own goals, and I'm not ready to settle myself somewhere...__

He snickered, more out of spite than anything else.

 _ _Finally, I'm the only one who doesn't know where to go ...__

He struck his forehead with his left hand still covered with bandages, after a recent altercation with some passing delinquent. The question had long been in his mind.

 _ _...Is my place here?__

Sanosuke looked up at the sky that was riddled with stars. Something deep inside of him was wondering if they looked the same everywhere else on the globe.

 _ _Bah. I'll visit my family next week. Maybe it'll enlighten me a bit.__

In a stall behind him was a print on the wall, drawing in black ink the contours of Eurasia map.

* * *

Not far from there in ancient Edo, Himura also had his face raised to the starry sky. But his eyes were empty.

The demons that had invaded his nights were finally overcoming him. Tonight he had awakened again after a few hours on a nightmare that had seemed so real that his old cruciform scar had reopened, staining his sheets of purple liquid.

Absently, Kenshin was tracing the lines of dried blood under his black-circled eyes. He was... tired of all this madness. From what had been his existence. From the beginning to the end. Starting with his miserable childhood, which he only remembered partially, some infancy traumas being intended to be buried forever. He had never rethought about this period of his life, even unconsciously. The rigorous training of the Hiten Mitsurugi ensued. Blows, blows and more blows. Until it permeates every movement, every technique in his soul and body. Until everything becomes a reflex. Being one with his sword, was a prerequisite of his school. In that he had succeeded. His master had never had a single affectionate gesture toward him, but by his teaching he was remaining the closest thing to a paternal figure in his existence.

A strange life, which had taught him to kill before knowing what it was like to be loved ...

Sometimes, when his mind was wandering, he could still smell a delicate scent of white plum while walking beside the blooming trees, the sound of her voice when the wind was blowing in their leaves, the deep black of her irises reflected in the shadows of the day, her caresses on his skin when he was closing his eyes at night... even more than ten years after her disappearance, Tomoe was returning sometimes to haunt him. A long time ago, his wife had turned the teenager he was into a man.

While the night was already well advanced, Kenshin Himura was once again lost in the memories of a snowy day...

 _ _It was at the beginning of shimotsuki, the 11th moon of the traditional calendar, not far from Oostu in the plains of Shiga district.__

 _ _After several weeks spent in the quiet of the countryside, away from the turmoil of Kyoto's bloody fights, the young Ishin Shishi was divided between his extreme decency and the birth of new feelings towards his wife. She was beautiful, tall, gentle despite her coldness, and he felt attracted to her like a plant towards the sun ... More than any other woman, Tomoe Yukishiro was confusing him. As the days together were unfolding with the delusional languor of rare moments of peace, he became captivated by her gracious approach, her deep black eyes, her distinguished gestures, her unique perfume of white plum...__

 _ _...But the young patriot didn't know how to behave near her. The only experience he had in relationship between the two sexes were raw jokes and other anecdotes shared by members of the Choshu clan, and he had been indifferent, if not disgusted, while listening to them. The only woman that had ever approached him was his mother, and she had died too young for him to remember what the slightest sign of affection looked like. In short, although he was a talented and calculating killer, when it came to human relationships, he was still a little boy in his heart. Until now, his whole existence had been guided by fighting, misery, and above all... death.__

 _ _Tomoe, older and more experienced, seemed to have perceived this discomfort, because it was often she who was taking the lead of their carnal interactions. In spite of her seeming austerity, she was multiplying innocuous contacts since their arrival in the small house, sometimes placing her hand on his shoulder, approaching him whenever she had an opportunity. Little by little, she was taming the dangerous boy at the vanguard of the patriots' mad justice.__

 _ _Tonight at the moon of frosts, they had shared a cup of saké to celebrate the last harvest of their field, and she was feeling more mischievous than usual. For several weeks she had been living with the assassin, now officially her husband, and she had clarified her feelings as well as her grievances towards him. Over the capricious tumults of her life, Tomoe Yukishiro had to her dismay fallen in love with Kenshin Himura, the murderer of her fiancé, discovering the tender heart hidden under the features of the bloody assassin, succumbing to the charm of his strange eyes, his long ocher hair and his body with smallest details perfectly sculpted by martial arts. She had finally decided, in her soul and conscience, to offer herself completely to the man whom fate had chosen for her and whom she loved more than her own life.__

 _ _Tomoe accurately adjusted ties of the yukata she had just covered, sheltered behind the screen, before joining her husband in the living room. He was sitting in front of the oval hearth where the fire on which their meal had been cooked was still burning. Himura was always falling asleep at this place, located in the exact center of the single room of the hovel. Ready to intervene at the slightest suspicious movement.__

" __Anata ... you can stop sleeping against the wall,__ " _she_ _ _whispered softly.__ _"_ _ _We__ _ _are no longer at the patriots' place...__ "

 _ _He gave her a speechless look.__

" __It doesn't bother me.__ "

 _ _She put her face next to his.__

" __Winter will be here soon, and I'm getting cold...__ "

" __I can buy you another blanket,__ " __he stated simply.__

 _ _Really, he was not understanding his wife. She took her courage with both hands.__

" __... Anata, would you come on the futon with me?__ "

 _ _She rarely asked for anything insistently. The young Ishin Shishi blushed imperceptibly.__

" __If you want.__ "

 _ _Lying on a futon was a curious thing for him. As far as he could remember, he had almost always slept cross-legged, his katana against his shoulder.__

 _ _Kenshin slouched awkwardly in the sheets, while Tomoe slipped with the grace of a swan by his side. The body of his wife... only inches away from his. To say that he was uncomfortable would be a profound underestimation of the situation. He was stiff as a plank, was hardly daring to breathe, and was absolutely not moving for fear of touching her inadvertently.__

 _ _A few minutes passed thus in the most complete calm. As he was listening to the quiet breathing of his wife,__ nothing __in his experience as a seasoned fighter, could prepare him for what followed... Tomoe placed herself against his back, and he could have sworn his heart was going to come out of his chest here and now under the effect of surprise. Speaking of chest, he was now clearly feeling the soft curves of that of his wife just below his shoulder blades, through the fine fabric. Himura paralyzed himself. His wife then slid her hands under his yukata, then began to caress in slow movements his shoulders, finely carved by kenjutsu. He was holding his breath. She went down his arms, kneading the muscles under her palm, then his wrists, his hands. Obnubilated by the foreign sensation of the contact of fingers on his skin, his pulse was pounding. Usually, nobody ever touched him. His master was not tactile person, and the others Ishin Shishis were too scared of him to approach him if only to bandage a wound. The fairy fingers were continuing on their way. As she was beginning to gently massage his chest and abdomen, reacting epidermically to her caresses, he began to feel a tightness in his pelvis. Tomoe quickly understood what was happening and decided to take advantage of the situation. Always underneath the fabric, she lowered her hand on his intimacy.__

" __T-Tomoe!__ "

 _ _He opened his eyes wide.__

" __Sshhh__ "

 _ _She began to move slowly, up and down on his manhood. The young man was gradually stiffening at her touch.__

" __Hanh ...!__ "

 _ _Leaning against his back, she sketched a rare smile. Kenshin had closed his eyelids, his breath stuck in his throat, his cheeks slightly red. He began to move his hips, following her movement in spite of himself, his attention instantly captured by her ministrations. An irresistible sensation was rising inside of him and he was unable to control it. For the first time in his life, Himura had no control over his body, yet trained in the least of his reflexes since his youth. As she was continuing her caresses, he was soon feeling nothing else than the hand between his legs and the fire that they were spreading on his flesh and in his head. Things, at this rate, weren't going to last long: he was getting so tense that he felt like he was going to explode. She gradually accelerated her movement, and everything went very fast. Unable to restrain himself, his brain finally stopped obeying him and he lost himself completely.__

" __MHH__ "

 _ _Trembling and moaning, Kenshin freed himself in her hands, vibrating at the indecent rhythm of his first true orgasm. Tomoe continued her attentions with tenderness, pushed by the patience of a loving woman, until her young husband reaches the end of his enjoyment.__

 _ _Himura took some time to catch his breath and get back to reality. When he realized what had happened, he blushed from head to toe.__

" __Tomoe, I'm sorry...__ "

" __Sorry, why...?__ "

 _ _He felt so naive in her presence. Tomoe had an incredible gift for destabilizing him.__

" __Aren't we supposed to do that... together?__ "

 _ _She laughed softly.__

" __Anata... These things are normal in a couple.__ "

 _ _Having finally been able to touch her young husband and above all to have been the first woman to enjoy this man usually so secret, had lit the flame of her own desire beyond what she could have imagined. The assassin who was frightening the dark streets of Kyoto, was now gazing at her with a look mixed with fascination and timidity. She had never seen him showing such a fragile facet of his personality.__

 _ _Decided, Tomoe leaned over him and laid a first kiss upon his mouth. He was surprised again but immediately pushed his lips intuitively against her own to kiss her again. His hands found their way to her waist by themselves.__

 _ _Kenshin had never known such moments of tenderness before. So, to feel her mouth on him... The exhilarating sensation was gaining him again. Aged of merely 15, at the highest of his strength, he had at that moment only one desire : to feel this dizzying feeling again. He opened his mouth spontaneously, letting in her tongue. While he was letting his wife teach him how to give pleasure with a kiss, allowing her this time to guide him willingly, their two bodies were getting closer little by little...__

 _ _Seeing that he was always responding eagerly to her advances, Tomoe ceased to hesitate. She broke off her kiss softly, stood up, then untied the ties of her kimono, which fell like a petal at her feet. Leaving her... naked.__

 _ _Kenshin opened on her two intense amber irises. Devouring literally with his ingenuous eyes the delicacy of her slender legs, the soft curves of her small breasts, the milky color of her skin, and the cascade of black hair that surrounded her black-shaped eyes to her feminine hips... under his burning gaze, Tomoe briefly felt like a prey.__

 _ _The assassin untied his yukata in a single gesture with an extraordinary rapidity. He wasn't completely sure of what was going to happen, but he was confident on the fact that it did not require any clothes.__

" __Tomoe, can I ...?__ "

 _ _Without answering him, she took his outstretched hand and placed it on her chest. Both shuddered at the touch. The young Ishin Shishi took the time to assess the roundness in his palm, then instinctively put his mouth on it. Tomoe gave a sharp sigh, and the erotic sound pushed his blood straight into his crotch. He drank in her madly, like a newborn finding his long-lost mother. The following was an entanglement of caresses, moans and panting breaths as their bodies took the time to discover each other.__

 _ _Feeling that she was ready, the young woman made her husband a sign to sit down, then she stood over him, wrapping her frail thighs on his firm ones. Kenshin spontaneously placed his hands on her hips to stabilize her, still staring at her intensely. Then she descended on him, gradually, until they became one. The assassin tilted his head back, exhaling heavily, drunk with the tight, wet sensation around his most intimate place. Tomoe began to move, him also, until they were agreeing on the same rhythm. From that moment on, Kenshin's mind became completely blank. He could hardly remember his own name. Tomoe was moving as best she could on her young husband, also shaken by the sensations, but her speed seemed desperately too slow to the young assassin, who had been trained with martial practices. Unable to hold on any longer, he reversed her back on the futon with a single movement to exchange their positions. Carried away by his desire and now above her, he began to go back and forth vigorously inside her, deaf to her groans, imposing a crazy cadence for their two bodies. In spite of his inexperience, Himura Battosai didn't like not leading the dance. And, he was a quick learner...__

" __Hun! Haaa ...__ "

 _ _Tomoe was then overwhelmed by the energy of her young husband, and her mind went blank in turn. Momentarily alone together in this time suspended place, both spouses were lost in their mutual pleasure, hitting their hips at a frantic pace.__

... __Tomoe and Kenshin Himura, the cursed lovers, locked in an ephemeral sphere of peace that was belonging only to them...__

 _ _Finally, when she succumbed to her orgasm, the sudden contraction of her inner walls brought her husband with her. Their two cries pierced the silence of the isolated hut.__

 _ _Kenshin collapsed, panting, before realizing he was leaning on her and relocating clumsily to her side. She had then, for him and him alone, that precious, true smile that was lighting up her black eyes.__

" __Anata ...__ "

 _ _The young assassin hugged his wife, and let her head rest in the hollow of his shoulder.__

" __Tomoe ... Ai shiteruyo.__ "

 _ _The words came out by themselves from his lips. For the first and last time.__

 _ _Enveloped by the bliss of that moment, the two exhausted spouses were no longer aware of anything but the warmth of the loved one by their side. The night was tenderly covering them, and they let themselves be embraced by sleep, pressed together closely. The first snowflakes of winter twirling around the sleeping hut...__

...then death.

The deaf desperation. The blind pain. The incurable soul injury.

There are sufferings that words do not describe, that alcohol does not drown, that tears do not dry up... that time does not heal.

Everything that was still innocent in Kenshin Himura had died that day. Since the icy swirls of Ootsu, his life was nothing more than a cruel respite.

Then followed years of wandering. To live, not because he wanted to, but because she had given her precious life for that. So condemning him to subsist in his own inner hell, until death finally deigns to ensue. He had decided to spend the rest of his life repairing his mistakes. This mantra born of sacrifice and guilt was now the thread that was holding him on earth.

Losing his killer habits had taken years. To blend in the crowd. He had transformed his carefully expressionless face into a welcoming smile. Increased the sound of his footsteps to no longer surprise when he was approaching others. Muzzled his impenetrable murderous instincts. But in his heart, the bitterness was remaining intact. He had confined his deep sorrow with impenetrable barriers. He was no longer counting days walking on ungrateful paths,or nights sleeping outside in bad weather. He was paying no attention to his own comfort. Systematically rejected by people when they realized his true identity, he was living without moorings. And it suited him very well like that. He didn't want to become attached to anyone. Never again.

And then as an unlikely rebound of fate, this little brunette with ocean eyes had entered his life. Pure, energetic, generous, enthusiastic, innocent. An accidental sunbeam in his dark existence. He had tried to go ahead for Kyoto and leave her behind. But she seemed to be returning inexorably to him each time like an alter ego. So deep inside him he had begun to smile again, just a little bit. To crumble the walls of his fortress. Other sordid events had tainted this happiness... Jin-e, the ten swords, Shishio... like a buried truth, his steps were tirelessly pursued by violence and madness. Arguing that the smell of blood that had permeated him would never disappear.

It was during the episode with Enishi that he had realized that it was too late ; he was irretrievably attached to Kaoru Kamiya. He was loving again, for the first time in ten years, from his whole being. And it was scaring him so much. Cruel irony of the future, the events had given reason to his unfathomable fears. She was alive not because he had been able to protect her, but because this psychopath was unable to kill a woman who looked like his sister. Although she was not really dead, irreparable damages to the wanderer's already stricken intellect had been committed that day. He had failed again. He had lost his half a second time.

Since then, the image of her bloody body planted like a doll on the dojo wall was remaining engraved in his mind. And was superimposed on that of his former wife, in a scene with nightmarish hints...

Oh, the hell that had become his nights.

He sighed deeply, raised his head on which he had placed his callused hands. Clutching the locks of ocher hair that surrounded his scarred face. He could not see the stars beyond.

"I would like... to be washed of this existence..."

By killing Kaoru artificially, Enishi had killed the samurai a second time.

And as an ultimate setback of fate, this last act of cruelty had freed what little control he was keeping on his will to live.

* * *

 _ ** _ **Next chapter:**_**_ Drunk of her (...at last, a bit of KK's fluff to come?)


	11. Drunk of her

*** IMMENSE JOY * the publication of Kenshin's Hokkaido arc will start again near June in Japan!** I hope we'll have at least an English translation... :D

 _ **Lexicon:**_  
Iya! : no !  
Oshiire: traditional Japanese closet in which the futons are stored, with sliding door  
Hakama: wide pants worn by samurais  
Gi: I use this term to refer to the kind of jacket/shirt that is worn above the hakama (means literally: clothing in Japanese)  
Yamete: stop  
Onegai: I beg you

Udon : thick and long wheat flour pasta

* * *

 _ **Chapter 11:**_ Drunk of her

* * *

Sanosuke Sagara, strand of unidentified plant stuck between the teeth and Higashidani Kamishimoemon, pipe in mouth, were sitting side by side on a collapsed trunk in the small forest, not far from the village where the older man was living. The number of times these two men had met in recent years could easily be counted on the fingers of one single hand.

"... how're they?" Sanosuke finally asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

"If you worry so much about them, why don't you go and see them directly... to tell them that you're their big brother?"

Kamishimoemon wasn't sparing him his sarcasm. From the height of his forty-one years, he had seen his daughter crying tirelessly his absence, and his youngest son was still speaking to him of the impressive brawler who had come to help them lately and whom he had copied the dorsal badge.

"In yar dreams, old man!"

Sanosuke spat the twig on the ground.

 _I still have lots of things to discover ... I can't be here for them. And then, Uki is too attached, and Ota needs to take his independence... I'll just disrupt them by coming into their lives now._

Once his blind fury towards to government partially appeased, by living in Kamiya dojo, the streetfighter had gradually become aware of the importance of affect bonds. Thus since he had learnt about the existence of his youngest brother and at the same time his mother's death, Sanosuke was sometimes secretly asking for news of his family. In the same way he had done in the affair of the corrupted patriot Fudosawa, he was protecting them from afar.

"By the way," he continued, ignoring him, "I still don't understand why you have chosen this ridiculous name, Zagaro ..."

"SA-GA-RA!"

The father looked like he was frankly bored.

"... you're ashamed of Naname and me, that's it?"

"Stop that! Ya understand nothin', dotard!"

 _He was my second father..._

Captain Sozo Sagara, leader of the peasant revolutionary group named Sekihotai, had been his mentor. Like Kenshin many years later, he had deeply inspired his way of life. Just as the sign of evil written in his back, taking his name was a way for him to carry on his memory and principles.

"And then, Higashidani, that name sucks... Sagara sounds much better!"

"Care to repeat that?! Ungrateful son !"

Spontaneously, the two men embarked themselves in a sterile exchange of punches and kicks, each one eager to assert the superiority of his words in a muscular -and childish- way. Like father, like son... The conversation resumed naturally once they had both been appropriately covered with enough mud and shame.

"...You didn't come to see me just to ask 'bout your brother and sister, no? Because you haven't cared 'bout that for almost six years ..."

"AREN'T YA FINISHED WITH THAT YET ?!"

Sanosuke raised his fist again, unable to hide his irritation.

"Tsssk"

The two hard-headed men stared at each other for a moment as a hunting dogs, before sitting down and reconciling themselves silently around a bottle of saké. There were points on which they were always agreeing.

"... you could've paid for the bottle at least!"

"Skinflint! I don't have any more money than ya!"

"I've got two children to feed, as for me!"

"I'm yar son too !"

Kamishimoemon sighed, hiding his smile with a sip of saké. He may have been partly raised by the Sekihotai ... Sanosuke was exactly like him.

"Hey, son ..."

He relit his pipe.

"... come back to see them on occasion, they'll be delighted. And go to your mother's grave too."

* * *

That night, he came back drunk again.

It was almost four o'clock in the morning and the capital was wisely plunged into darkness. But while he was meticulously careful not to be seen by anyone each time he was drowning his memory, Kaoru was for once sitting under the porch right in front of the entrance. Annoyed by the beginning of first heats, she could no longer sleep and had gone to cool off in the garden while waiting for sleep to return.  
As soon as she heard footsteps approaching her house, the young woman turned the head towards the threshold of the dojo's enclosure, only to see to her great astonishment Kenshin crossing it, staggering.

 _...what is he doing outside at this hour?  
_  
He leaned against the door for a moment, head and shoulders down.

 _He's hurt ?!_

Kaoru rushed at him without giving him a chance to override her presence. The samurai saw her in a cloudy halo of desperation and helplessness. To be in this state, in front of the woman he was loving... this night was definitely a nightmare.  
She immediately sensed the smell of saké on his breath. And maybe something else, a Western beverage.

 _…He has been drinking ?_

His eyes were haggard. He looked positively intoxicated.

 _Kami-sama, just what did he swallow ?_

"Kenshin ... "

"K-Kaoru-dono ... "

She put a hand on his shoulder and tried to move him gently. The wanderer remained completely motionless, his eyes foggy. Unable to think of a way out of this situation.

 _Sanosuke's gone to his family yesterday... he went out to drink alone?  
_  
She frowned. It did not look like the samurai she used to known.

 _But it's far past midnight, and given his condition... I won't get anything constructive tonight. Now isn't the time to discuss._

"... go back to bed. I will help you. "

Kaoru didn't understand what was going on behind this unusual behavior, the fact is that she couldn't decently let him fend for himself under such conditions. Kenshin hesitated for a time, then stumbled back to his room. Seeing that he was struggling to simply walk straight, she took him by the waist to stabilize him.

"Iya ... "

He really didn't want her to help him in his lamentable situation. The samurai made an erratic move backwards trying to free himself but lost his balance instead, failing to coordinate his gestures sufficiently. Everything around him was spinning.

"Hush! You're in no position to protest! You could hurt yourself."

"Gome * hic * -nasai..."

It was the worst time ever to be with her. This evening had been particularly painful and he had forced on the drink even more than usual, exhausted by a succession of sleepless nights and overwhelmed by macabre memories. He was feeling nauseous, barely knew where he was living, and was hiccuping in spite of himself.

"Let it go… "

Guessing his inner turmoil, she tried to manage him with softness. While providing support, she was dragging him into her own steps.

 _He's less heavy than I would've thought... has he lost weight?_

Fortunately for Kaoru, he had too little control over his body to prevent her from guiding him to his room.

 _He who is usually so agile..._

The incongruous situation seemed almost amusing to her. Once in his room, she stabilized him on the floor against the wall, deciding that it would be easier to change him this way. She next took out his futon from the oshiire, unfolded it carefully in anticipation, then went to fetch a basin of water that she would leave at his disposal for the rest of the night.  
During all this time, Kenshin had not moved. He was sitting on the floor with his legs outstretched, head spinning furiously. Focusing his eyes and following the activities of the young woman was difficult for him.

When she returned a few minutes later, she set up the basin and knelt beside him. She began by removing his settas and dropped them at his side. Then she grabbed the collar of his gi, touching his neck at the same time. Surprised by the gentle touch of delicate fingers on him, he stifled back a moan.

 _His skin is hot ..._ observed the young kendoka

She began to pull off the fabric, then seeing that it wasn't coming, slipped a hand behind his back to support her movement.

"Kaoru d-dono ..."

Alcohol was cradling his senses. As he was scanning her lasciviously, his eyes were lingering on the forms under the lilac kimono waving in front of him. He had trouble detaching his attention of them. Even the faint glow of the paper lantern seemed to be playing tricks on the shadows that were surrounding them.  
Kenshin closed his eyelids with a sigh, pushing his head against the wall. He was feeling his control dwindling with each second passing by ...

 _What am I thinking of? She's almost half my age ..._

Between the drunkenness and the desire provoked by the proximity of the woman he was loving, the ancestral needs that he was usually refusing to listen were furiously rising in him. The forbidden fruit of the generation he had protected by his sacrifice during the Bakumatsu was standing before him, and she had the sacred taste of interdict.

 _She had just learned to walk when I was killing in the name of divine vengeance...  
_  
His eyes were on her lips, her neck, her cleavage...

 _She still wasn't capable of_ _reading when I went wandering to atone for my sins..._

...her breasts, her chest, her hips.

 _...Focus, Himura !_

His beloved never having known a man before, he had forbidden himself to rush things between them. Especially not without having married her before, because if he was honestly disinterested of what the others were thinking of him or of society's conventions - and wasn't according any value to a mere paper for the government - it would be a disgrace for the young woman she was and he did not want to damage her reputation or worse, to break any expectations she might have about him. Whatever one may say, Kaoru Kamiya was a child of the Meiji era, raised in a family of honorable rank. So he had resigned himself to try to take the common path, something he had never done in his life before. From this had resulted for him a long period of torture, because since he had officially started courting her after Enishi's departure, he had increasingly recovered at her contact the sensations and carnal desires he was repressing since the death of his former wife. Thus, if his guilty heart was refusing to let him fully live his feelings, his passionate body was eagerly claiming the one who was now making vibrate the least of his cells. And when Himura Kenshin had one thing in mind, he could become very, very focused...

*HIC*

Unaware of the emotions that were shaking the wanderer, Kaoru continued her business methodically. She pulled the fabric softly and slid his purple faded gi out of his chest, temporarily leaving his skin bare.

He swallowed.

She grabbed the yukata neatly folded next to the futon, and gently grabbed his arms to pull the sleeves. Her hands were slipping on his elbow. His body already warmed up by the drink was becoming hot wherever she was touching it without being careful.

 _ _Don't do that...__

"K-Kaoru..." he tried, pulling her away with a heavy hand.

"Let yourself go, baka. I'll let you sleep right after..."

She patiently continued undoing the fabric ties, each time reducing the distance between them a little more. He could feel her hair brushing against his abdomen, could almost smell her breath.

 _ _Don't come so close ...__

Having finished the work on the top of his outfit, she untied with nimble fingers the knot of his hakama, located just above his pelvis. In doing so, she almost touched ...

 ** _ **Yamete**_**

... His control evaporated instantly. In a too-quick-to-be-seen gesture, he brushed her cheek and gently pushed his lips against hers.

"Ken -mmfH!"

The first kiss was almost a caress. But he was followed by another, then another, then another... The samurai was kissing her passionately, succumbing to the desire that was devouring him. Although somewhat distraught, Kaoru agreed to be led by the man she was loving. For months now, she had been waiting for their relationship to move up, hoping he would finally make the first move. Initially captivated by the experienced movements of his mouth, the young master of Kamiya Kasshin found in turn the desire to counterattack, and began to move her lips too, first shyly, then quickly, then finally firmly...

" ** **Ungh**** "

Himura, surprised by her zealous response, could not help but let out a groan. Discreet, deep, but cavernous. Saké had apparently deprived him of more self-control than expected. He hastily ran his hand through her brown hair, pushing their faces even more against each other. The young kendoka could smell the musky perfume of his skin, his still sweet breath on her cheeks, his long ocher hair caressing her face. Tilting his head to obtain the perfect angle, he began to cuddle, lick and nibble her lips with the spellbinding precision of a man expert in everything for which he was dedicating his whole soul.

In the captivating arms that were surrounding her with unbounded passion, the young woman was feeling a strange need rising inside her... And her legs began to weaken. When she quietly opened her mouth to breathe, he took the opportunity to enter her and entangle their two tongues. He was tenderly embracing hers, as if to ask permission.

"Mmmmmmh ..."

As she was uttering a long moan, the vagabond began to explore her madly, drinking in her like a man too long lost in the desert, unleashing his ardor severely restrained, all the while maintaining her in his embrace with sturdy arms. Drunk of her. He had spontaneously lowered his hand down her back, stroking the fabric impatiently. Kaoru, completely absorbed by the heated kiss, was beginning to lose little by little the track of time. She was feeling her strength leave her in the heat of the action and let without paying attention her body fully resting on his. Torso against torso, thighs between his. The samurai's blood immediately drained from his brain. He was concretely perceiving the femininity of the curves extended over him... and the virility of his, as an instinctive and immediate response.

He broke the embrace and leaped outside, panting.

He was feeling himself reacting very firmly to their proximity, incapable to ignore the pressing sensation between his legs... At this rate, things would quickly become irreversible for him. In her presence, with all the alcohol he had swallowed exacerbating his desire and lulling his conscience to sleep, he was unable to resist his primitive human needs. Kenshin closed his eyelids. His eyes two amber orbs.

 _ _A little more, and this one would have...__

He jerked awkwardly toward the well outside and threw a cold seal of water on his face unceremoniously. He took a moment to breathe. His head was still spinning. The nausea had returned, the discomfort in his heart too.

By the time she realized what had happened, Kaoru had regained full consciousness and was running towards the garden, her previous excitement turned into anger.

 _ _First he kisses me, and then he leaves? Just what is he thinking?!__

"Kenshin, I don't understand anything, what are you doing?! We're in the middle of the night and it's getting cool outside, are you trying to get sick? "

He dropped to the ground. His brain was completely foggy.

"Arigato... This one can very well... * hic * fend for himself."

"But you're all wet, and if you don't change quickly..."

"Leave me, Kaoru..." he whispered

 _ _...Did he just drop the „-dono"?__

His head was down to the ground, his messy hair still dripping. He did not seem to be able to get up. She took a step in his direction and was about to put a hand on his shoulder, determined to help him back on his feet.

" ****LEAVE ME.**** "

Kaoru froze. His tone was suddenly terribly cold. For a moment a doubt ran through her whole being. She had rarely seen him so rude, never towards her.

 _ _Am I afraid of him?__

From her height, she could not see his eyes hidden under his tangled hair. She took a time to analyze the situation. He was soaked, curled up on himself, incoherent since he had returned. More than anything, she felt him confused.

 _ _Are these... drops of water on his cheek?__

Kenshin slammed a trembling hand on his face. And recovered himself.

"Onegai, leave me alone."

Authority in his voice was leaving no room for negotiation.

* * *

The Kyoto police forces with the help of the Oniwabanshu had worked better than those of former Edo -Saito internally noted to recall it shortly to his underlings the hard way- and had sent them a condensed of their reports on the investigation.

 _ _Another wad of papers...__

Oh, how he was hating these nauseating white stacks that were undoubtedly part of the police officer's job. He was all about action. Bureaucracy was good for those imbeciles of democrats in their Sunday best, who were holding out gala dinners along with floral languages, which had become a specialty since the advent of the peaceful Meiji era.

The Mibu's wolf could not stand being caged. He was keeping his goal constantly in sight, and if there was child trafficking, he was eager to get his hands on those responsible...

The reports of his colleagues were also mentioning various caches, but nobody had been able to get their hands on the traffickers or their merchandise yet. Only one child had been found by the Osaka police, who had apparently been abandoned in one of their shelters, but the boy had proved too weak to give them any consistent information. The doctor who had examined him, however, had stated that, in addition to being beaten, he had also been sexually abused during his confinement, without expanding more on the subject in his record. Giving Saito extra motivation to administer a taste of his sharp katana and expeditious justice to these bastards...

 _ _Looks like they are circulating from hiding to hiding...__ He took a hit of his cigarette. _We must look for_ _ _abandoned__ _ _buildings with a surface sufficient to shelter a large group of people... while favoring those near which unusual movements have been reported.__

He undertook to review any structure that could fall into this category, intersecting their location with the map on which he had pointed since the beginning of the investigation the place of the various disappearances reported in the Kanto region. At a distance close to the intersection of a large number of points was an old udon factory, near Saitama. Unoccupied for more than five years following the bankruptcy of its entrepreneur, unable to adapt to industrial methods imported from Europe along with cultural renovation.

 _ _This place is perfect for grouping children discreetly, while waiting for their sale or something else... If they are walled somewhere, it must be there!__

The former Shinsengumi opened his door with a roar, surprising his colleague at the entrance who nearly fell backwards.

"Contact the Saitama Police Office, I have informations to check!"

Hajime hurriedly shoved his wad of paper over the man's chest.

"And as soon as we get a feedback from them, bring this message to Himura! We'll need him!"

 _ _Children's lives may be at stake ...!__

* * *

 _ **Next chapter :**_ The seeds of doubt

* * *

 **A huge Thank you for each of your reviews, having your opinion on the chapters written is my main reason for posting this story**!


	12. The seeds of doubt

_**A few answers for the reviewers :**_

 **KureNo11 :** I'm a little sad to know you couldn't read this part (because I've put explainings about Kenshin's character inside), but I absolutely respect your choice and I think I can understand how you feel about it. To resume, I needed to explain the strength of their relationship / the impact of her death in a short way (because the main story is not about Tomoe/Kenshin*), thus describing their first intercourse together seemed to me one of the best way to do that (because it's a very strong moment). *Although, I personally like this couple as much as KK in my opinion Tomoe and Kaoru are just very different persons and they also have appeared in very different times of his life. Kenshin wouldn't be himself if he hadn't met Tomoe, but Kaoru is the one that becomes the mother of his child... so they are unlike, but not incompatible as for me (and I find that Watsuki did describe that pretty well with the graveyard scene). Thank you for your honesty and kind words ;)

 **Queen Emily the Diligent :** Idiot ? I'm curious to know why ? I mean I can see many reasons for which you would call him that... XD I'm also glad to see the fandom is still alive, let's keep up this way !

 **Monika** **:** if you like angst, then you'll thoroughly enjoy the upcoming chapters... ;) Thank you so much for your reviews !

 **Sileavatar :** well, you already know how I feel but I appreciate your support so much ! ^^

 **Skenshingumi :** yay ! your review has motivated me to begin the translation of this chapter (which is ready since almost a week, but I'm being lazy with the -so boring- traduction act)... ;) Indeed as you had guessed, this chapter will explain more of Kaoru's POV. I think she has a complicated position, because she's the one who can help him the most -far more than Sano-, but depending on how she acts it can push him in either the good or the wrong way -contrary to Sano-... I mean Kenshin cares deeply about what she thinks (concerning the one he loves, his heart is pretty defenseless -that's also why he's hiding from her more than from his spiky-headed friend, leaving poor Kaoru with less clues- and I think she understands that a little better with time) and she just can't go and punch him like Sano would regarding intimate subjects, for she might end up harshly hurting him. At the end of the manga/the beginning of Hokkaido's arc she is more gentle (and feminine), I think it's because her impulsive character was also partly due to her immaturity = even though she still likes to jump on people for almost every little thing XD, I think she would be more intelligent/careful about serious subjects (but nevertheless, these are only my observations ^^°... let's see what Watsuki has in store for us, with the Koshijiro story!). Thank you so much for your review, I hope you'll like what I share!

* * *

 _ **Lexicon :**_

Daifuku: Japanese candy that consists of a mochi, whose outer dough is made of glutinous rice, filled in its center (sweet red bean paste ...)

* * *

 _ **Chapter 12 :**_ The seeds of doubt

* * *

The wanderer had apologized many times for the night he had come back home dead drunk, and for the chaotic behavior that had resulted from it. Pretending an unforeseen excess, an unpleasant accident. The young kendoka had obviously been understanding, but the silent seed of doubt had since germinated in her mind... Of course, she was more than happy that their relationship was progressing in a more carnal sense, but... ever since she had met him, she had never seen the wanderer getting intoxicated so much, not to mention alone. She knew for sure that Sanosuke, who had gone to visit his family the day before, was not with him that night, which made his act even more intriguing. This morning again, Himura had got up late... should she deduce that he had been drinking too?

 _I don't know what to think anymore..._

As she was watching him going out of his room looking haggard, eyes still tired, the young kendoka was beginning to replay in her head the thread of the recent weeks' events more clearly...

It had started with little things, shortly after Enishi's episode.

At first, life had seemed to have returned to normal. As if the horrors of her own staged death and the ghosts of the past that it had dragged into its race could be erased once the trigger element neutralized. Kaoru was left for a few nights of nightmares regarding her short captivity, and then her convivial nature had taken over. It was the same for Yahiko, Sanosuke and Megumi whose young minds were quick to enjoy the life ahead.

All except Kenshin. Until then he had seemed unattainable despite all the hardships he had gone through; a miserable childhood, the swirl of Bakumastu's violence, the death of his wife, the sadism of pursuers like Shishio or Jin'e and the severe wounds they had engendered ...

One could have talked about tiny details, for those who did not know him well. Later awakenings when it was previously almost impossible to see him sleep. Dark circles more pronounced under his eyes, often masked by his flamboyant hair. Smiles, lots of smiles, but none that was really reaching his eyes. Conversations which, after reflection, were limited more and more to the banalities of everyday life; how were the kendo trainings at Maekawa dojo going, should he buy tofu for tonight's meal, what were the latest news from Kyoto... but almost never anything that was concerning him intimately. He was remaining more secretive and withdrawn than ever before, almost as much as when she had met him. She had hoped that after listening to the story of his past with Tomoe he would have been be more eager to reveal his deep self, but he was not, not to say the contrary.

Kenshin was now scrupulously inspecting the surroundings of the dojo before closing the portal every night, checking it twice. A habit he had taken since the visit of the last Yukishiro. She had even sometimes surprised the samurai sleeping cross-legged in front of her door, sakabato tightly resting against him. As if he was afraid that she would disappear again... He was scared when she went alone to the market, when she was training away from him, when she almost spilled boiling miso on her arm... He was scared all the time. Kaoru had gradually felt this anguish rising in him, after he had made her the first demonstrations of his feelings.

Recently, she had seen him having a violent nightmare, one night in early spring. Then there was the accident with the carriage. Or their dispute, an event rare enough to be noted. And that night when he had come home completely drunk ... Kenshin would never have reacted so excessively before. Something in the walls of the fortress he had built himself since the end of Bakumatsu had begun to crack...

And that made Kaoru very, very worried…

* * *

To meet people had made him waste a lot of time. Because, like most masters of Hiten Mitsurugi, Seijuro Hiko had this abominable defect which consists of helping any of those who needed it. And on the crowded Tokaido road, between the customary robbers in need of correction, the wheels of carriages muddled by muck on the side of the path, kids who were climbing too high in the trees and God knows what other eccentricity... a lot of people finally turned out to need the said help.

After having passed Hakone, the master had therefore decided to take sideways routes, longer and more difficult but where he would cross fewer people, which was resulting in the end in... another form of waste of time.

The advantage of the overpopulated Tokaido road was that at least the paths and bridges were laid out all along, making it easy to get through. Which was far from being the case of the new path he had chosen. Even his tremendous sense of direction and unique ability to jump ravines and rivers was not always enough. Hiko sighed. It was long. Too long for someone who was hurried by an inexplicable anxiety to find back his disciple…

* * *

Kaoru was enjoying the early afternoon's air, Lychee passionately wrapped at her side. His red, warm and soft form glued close to the young woman. Had he been a cat, he would have certainly been purring. The master of Kamiya Kasshin sighed pleasantly. A little rest after a good kendo session, and Kenshin who would return from his errand at any minute, whereas they would both be alone at the dojo tonight... this day end would definitely take a nice turn.

 _I hope both of us will have time to talk a little more seriously tonight... I'll make him a good meal, then we'll go see the stars with Lychee..._

She allowed herself a self-satisfied smile.

 _Yes, good idea, that should relax him!_

With a little luck, she might even earn another kiss... and that simple thought was enough to make her hands sweaty and her cheeks rosy. But while she was lost in these pleasant and - according to her – daring ideas, while continuing to caress the delighted animal, a voluminous black crow suddenly landed a few inches from him, rubbing his muzzle during the touchdown. Surprised, he began to bark frantically, jumping and turning on himself.

"Lychee, calm down..."

The bird immediately flew in a debacle of dark feathers, but the still-panicked little dog kept on screaming. Kaoru leaned spontaneously towards him, eager to stroke him to appease his fears.

*RrRRWAFF !*

He grunted her at once, before throwing himself indiscriminately on the hand outstretched towards him, biting his mistress brutally. Under the combined effect of surprise and pain, the young kendoka screamed out loud.

"HYAAAAAAAAAAAA"

She shook her wrist reflexively, but Lychee, frightened, thrust his fangs deeper into her flesh, pressing with all his strength. A trickle of blood gushed out of the wound as Kaoru failed to push the firmly attached animal with her other hand.

Kenshin was in an adjacent street when he heard her sharp scream pierce the air. The distress call of his beloved echoing in each of his cells, his entire body went on alert and he propelled his legs at divine speed without wasting any more time to think. Hand firmly wrapped on his katana, muscles contracted to the extreme, sharp eyes watching for the smallest hostile trace... He ran into the garden in the following seconds, relentlessly dropping his provisions at the entrance of the dojo.

His blood froze when he saw that the animal was firmly clasping Kaoru's hand in his mouth, without any intention to release it despite the panicked injunctions of his mistress. The little dog's aura was erratic, unbalanced, explosive.

"Lychee, leave my hand ! Leave it !"

The young woman was screaming, trying in vain to get rid of the animal that was only attacking stronger in reaction.

 _Blood... Kaoru... bleeds..._

The former Ishin Shishi narrowed his eyes. The bite was deep enough to make the wound bleed, and maybe even having broken a bone. Worse, if he was out of control, he could soon jump at her face and cause much more serious damages. Reacting to an innate reflex, his reptilian brain then made a very simple calculation : Kaoru = Danger ... Lychee = Enemy. Anger roared in him instinctively, immediately. He masked his ki. From experience, animals were very responsive to human emotions.

"Lycheee ..." he called very calmly.

At the sound of his master's soft, seemingly appeased voice, the canine stilled. The redhead displaying a calculated smile for him, Lychee gradually released the terrible pressure of his teeth, Kaoru immediately putting her hand on her aching wrist. He began to turn back to him all the while wagging his tail, happy to know he was back home - and especially, happy to finally see a friendly soul after his terror with the frightening bird- when above the wanderer's mouth opened two amber irises, paved with cold anger. Lychee did not have time to see him coming. With a swift gesture, Kenshin unsheathed his sword blade-returned and sliced his jugular, slitting the canid before he could dodge. A high-pitched sound was heard and the animal immediately fell to the floor, convulsing.

Kaoru could only watch the scene in horror. The former assassin had acted far too quickly for her to have any chance to react. While his blood was draining on the grass of the Dojo, Lychee was still emitting little gurgles mixed with moans. Kenshin then straightened the tip of his katana and planted it with a free kick in the dog's chest, piercing his sternum and heart muscle, instantly freeing him from his agony. He then turned naturally to Kaoru, anxiety swiftly back in his eyes.

"Kaoru-dono, are you okay?"

The young kendoka had completely forgotten her wound, obsessed by Lychee's corpse at her feet. Everything had happened so fast.

"Let this one see your hand."

"BAKA !"

He was about to catch her wrist when she slapped him spontaneously, shocked by his reaction of chilling severity. Even more shocking was the fact that the concentrated samurai did not even blink in reaction to the blow he had just received, not bothering to dodge her gesture but instead taking advantage of this opportunity to seize her hand and examine it. He was turning the joint carefully, analyzing any potential damage.

" You must have it treated, Kaoru-dono. An animal bite can easily get infected, that it can."

 _Such a cold look ... Since when did he ...?_

Kaoru vigorously withdrew her wrist from the samurai's embrace, the latter releasing the pressure he was exerting on it only to prevent her from aggravating her own lesions by her movement. She had tears in her eyes. The little dog's pupils were empty and he was not breathing anymore.

"Who cares about my hand?! You've just killed Lychee !"

"It did put you in danger."

"But he... he had finally released his jaw!"

"It had gone mad, Kaoru-dono. A dog that has tasted human flesh is likely to reproduce this behavior in the future."

Bitterness of a former assassin used to the hardships of life and idealism of the innocent youth of Meiji era were confronting each other in the garden of Kamiya dojo. Kenshin had grown up in an environment where the out-of-control animals were slaughtered, most of the time even eaten, whereas the young kendoka had grown up in an environment where the animals were considered like members of the family.

"But you could have just knocked him out!"

"A dog that has bitten will bite again," he continued as if this explanation was obvious. "We could not keep it, that we couldn't."

The meaning of these words went straight to the young woman's heart. Kaoru exploded.

"And a man who has already killed will kill again, is that it? !"

The wanderer froze. For a moment he fought against a brief desire to return the slap he had previously received. Her words too, had just gone straight to his heart. Kaoru was the only one who could touch him so intimately.

"This one…"

 _It was only an animal… animals… are not_ _accurately humans, right?_

"Do you realize, that you are talking exactly like Jin'e or Saito ?!"

In spite of her will, the young woman began to cry buckets, unable to contain this much sudden emotions. Kenshin felt his throat tighten. She had buried her face in her hands and was trying to calm her tremors, eager not to show her weakness. He took a deep breath.

"This one is... sorry for hurting you."

He lowered his head, clenching his fists at his side, his face remaining carefully expressionless. And his famous ocher locks that were hiding his eyes.

 _...when did his heart become so hard?_ she realized silently, holding her still sore wrist in her other hand. _What did I miss, what isn't he telling me?_

"I'd rather you be sorry for _killing_ Lychee...!" she choked in a sob. "What's happening to you, Kenshin?"

"This one... is... terribly sorry."

Despite his unbearable desire to take his beloved in his arms and comfort her here and now, the wanderer was not daring to approach her at that moment. Guilt was overwhelming him. He was the cause of these tears. He was the one who was bringing horror into this immaculate generation that he had sought to protect so dearly.

 _This one has made a mistake..._

Another sharp intake of breath.

 _...Again..._

"Would you like nonetheless... to let yourself be examined by Megumi-dono?"

"I'm going to go," she sobbed, "we can't do anything for him anymore anyway..."

She could not stand being here, right next to the now lifeless body of their animal and the pool of blood that was laying beneath her feet on the ground of her dojo, a school that was protecting life. As she was standing up, Kenshin took a step toward her.

"Don't go with me! W-we'll meet again later."

Kaoru had seen enough. As she was sensing in her heart the deep reasons that had motivated his action, she would be able with time to forgive the samurai, but not now, not right away. She was planning, when things would be calmer for both, to literally beat the wanderer with her shinai for this impulsive gesture. Without tears this time. It was out of the question that Kaoru Kamiya, direct heiress of Kamiya Kasshin ryu, let him express the violence that was resulting from his character as a former assassin and from his chaotic life. Whether or not he was animated by the best intentions in the world.

"Hai. As you please, Kaoru-dono..."

 _This one would do anything for you._

He handed her some compresses anyway, eager to heal her wound by himself first, but his expert eyes noted that the young woman trembled imperceptibly as he was moving his hand closer. Horrified by her reaction, Himura resigned himself to not try to do more. Instead, he knelt beside the one they had called Lychee.

"This one will take care of... the remains."

He was hating himself so much.

When she left for the clinic, the master of Kamiya Kasshin crossed the path of a police officer who was walking hastily towards the dojo, but she paid no attention to him.

The official version proclaimed by Kaoru was that the dog had fled away again.

* * *

Tetsuko was walking in the streets of Tokyo, accompanied by her older brother Toshiro. Since they had come back from Kyoto where they had gone to visit an aunt, all they had got into was trouble. First, their dog who fled away on the Tokaido road after hearing a bird scream, then Toshiro who got stuck in a tree trying to find him -saved in extremis by an impressive potter-, and then the little sister and her father in the carriage who run over a scary eyed man on the way back from the market. Tetsuko had got it rough, and she was finally happy to spend some time with her big brother today.

"...Can I have daifuku once we arrive in the main square?" she asked, smiling with her almond-shaped eyes.

"If you want, daddy gave me some money."

"Great!"

She ran in front of him, clapping her hands happily. The weather was good this afternoon and the temperature was nice, allowing them time to wander. But as they were passing aside a kenjutsu dojo, Tetsuko stopped abruptly.

"There..."

The little girl pointed to a mass of red fur stained with blood on the side of the road at the bottom of the gutter. The water had not yet had time to carry it away. Toshiro approached her and carefully turned the animal around. To his horror, he found that the body was that of a small dog. His dog.

"But... it's Mochi !" yelled the little girl before her brother had time to hide her eyes.

Their Shiba-Inu, who had been missing for more than a month, was laying inanimate at their feet, slaughtered. The poor thing had probably tried to come home alone and had lost himself in the big city, before meeting a person obviously ill-intentioned.

"Don't look, it's too late..." Toshiro answered, taking the little girl in his arms, his own voice shivering.

Tetsuko burst into tears. She did not want to eat daifuku any more.

* * *

 _ **Next chapter :**_ Light off

 **...are we finally getting into this mission I'm promising you since the beginning of the story?**

* * *

PS : please don't sue me for this chapter, **I'm a huge animal defender in life** ! My *beautiful, splendid, adorable and adored* cats are literally spoiled like kings... ^^°


	13. Light off

**_**Lexicon:**_**

Hanko: personal seals used in Japan to validate documents, in the form of a stamp retranscribing the kanji of the person's name (often in katakana for foreigners), equivalent to the signature in the West.

Hayaku: hurry up

* * *

 ** **Chapter 13:**** Light off

* * *

 _ _This time I 've got them!__

Goro Fujita could barely hide his excitement. Now that a suspicious place had been identified, it was necessary to act quickly and intelligently. After collegial discussion, it had been decided that an undercover agent should first assess the situation before sending the bulk of the armed forces. First, because in the event of a forceful and thoughtless intervention from their part, if slaves were indeed trapped there they could be accidentally caught between the two opposing groups' fires, or even worse, serve directly as hostages or human shields for their captors (who, he had no doubt, were perfectly capable of such a sordid act) ...not to mention that having innocent kids as collateral victims was likely to pass painfully to the public. Then, because acting under the coat was precisely the business of the traffickers, fleeing away was therefore one of their specialties. The former Shinsengumi knew that at the slightest breath of wind, they could change their hideout and remove the loot.

Thus it would be necessary, depending on the state of play, to develop a plan to extract the victims safely before any vigorous action. This implied sending someone clairvoyant, with an innate capacity for concealment, whose face did not belong to the police forces of Tokyo but whose loyalty was indisputable ...

... a profile which was corresponding ideally to that of Kenshin Himura, former assassin in the pay of the Ishin Shishi converted since into a pacifist wanderer. Discreet, fast, insightful, and able to react effectively in any situation. And, above all -Saito would have sworn his life-, absolutely incorruptible.

 _ _A chance that he and I had not killed each other during the Bakumatsu ...__

After the Shishio and Enishi cases, the officer had become accustomed to dealing with him for the most complicated matters. A kind of tacit collaboration was thus born between the former adversaries. While this might seem like a paradox for two people having fought fiercely under two different banners barely more than a decade ago, in reality, those who had experienced the violent whirlwind of the Bakufu's fall at its epicenter did silently understand each other and were much closer than from most other people -though neither of them did officially wish to admit it-.

The former patriot therefore did not take a long time to react and he had come within the hour after receiving the police's letter. Ever since his arrival, he was walking round and round like a caged lion in Saito's office.

 _ _Hmm ... Concerning this affair, he looks as motivated as me ...__

"... about Abe Okamoto," the officer said, more for the rhetoric than anything else, "I don't know what you have said to the poor man, but you've scared the hell out of him... 'guess Battosai is more frightening than the justice of Meiji era. "

Kenshin gave him an annoyed look. He had witnessed several times the brutal methods of investigation of the former Mibu wolf, under cover of the police. Effective, yes, but certainly just as traumatic for its prey.

"I can't believe __you__ are telling me this..." the former assassin creaked.

"Bah ..." He added a grin to his words. "... anyway, I doubt he'll ever come back to the neighborhood where the __famous__ red-haired demon lives ."

"Spare me your sarcasm. This is not why you have called this one."

"Right to the point, huh? Are you at least aware that it's me who's going to reap the laurels for having dismantled the process? "

"I don't care."

His tone was dry and expeditious. Himura was wasting no time playing the courtly wanderer with his former Shinsengumi opponent.

"Very well." _His temper is certainly worst than ever today..._ The officer raised his eyebrows and gave him a detailed report. "Here is their whereabouts. You'll take the road tomorrow, when I would've had enough time to assemble a team to quickly follow your first investigations."

"I'm leaving right now." he cut.

Saito slowly inhaled the tobacco smoke he had just drawn. He noted absently the wanderer's rigid right arm, but eluded this question immediately. If Himura had problems, it was not his job.

 _ _I had forgotten that he was so stubborn... he and his foolish sense of justice. Well, his skills as a former assassin are going to be very useful anyway.__

"As you wish, but don't complain if I cannot get you out of trouble."

The redhead turned his back, and disappeared into the doorway without adding a word. The officer remained motionless for a few moments in his chair, taken aback. Himura had seemed to him ... diminished. He had lost weight since the last time he had seen him, his cheeks were slightly hollow, and his nearly glassy eyes were surrounded by nasty dark circles. But most of all... for some strange reason, there was something unusual in his behavior that he could not grasp, and it was crumpling him...

 _ _Looks like it's going to be more complicated than expected to work with Battosai on this mission...__

* * *

Seijuro Hiko had left for Tokyo as soon as he had had this unpleasant presentiment. But, between the time required to come down from his forest hut and the length of the walk between the former and the new capital by Tokaido road, counting the too many interruptions he had suffered and the detours that he had accordingly voluntarily performed, almost a month had passed. When he finally arrived at the Kamiya dojo - after a number of detours into the alleyways of the huge capital - he was greeted by the unpleasant sight of a grumbling brat sweeping in front of the stone gateway.

 _ _Ah, yes, Yahiko Myojin. Kamiya's pupil.__

Yahiko, on the other hand, saw his day poorly begun by a household chore suddenly lit up by the arrival of a dreamed mentor in his nascent kendoka career.

 _ _K ... Kenshin's master!__

The young Myojin greeted him respectfully and went to look for Kaoru, who was stubbornly practicing her kata in an adjoining room, despite her freshly bandaged wrist (she had briefly explained to her disciple that she had been injured during a training session, what he had obviously not believed a single second -Kaoru being officially a terrible liar- which had spawned an argument between the two -Yahiko hating officially to be sidelined for adult considerations- having directly led her disciple to an unfair sweeping session). Once the banalities of politeness exchanged, all three found themselves a few minutes later sitting in seiza on the engawa, enjoying a cup of tea warmed for the occasion. The fading light of the day's end was casting its last shadows on the garden.

"... I guess you've come to see Kenshin?"

 _ _Perfect. A woman who doesn't beat around the bush.__

Hiko took a sip of hot liquid, enjoying inwardly the fact that she had come directly to the subject of his visit. He had no intention of making the conversation or to spit banalities. Just like his disciple, discussion had never been his strong point.

"Where is he? I heard he was currently living here with you."

The young kendoka could not help but sigh. She was so worried about Kenshin lately. The recent death of the dog, painfully confirming some of her worst suspicions. The arrival of his master was probably a good thing.

"He has left hours ago, in the early afternoon. Saito has called him on an affair they have been following together for a few weeks."

She thought back to the hastily scribbled note on a piece of paper she had found on the porch when she had gotten home from the clinic. It was not signed -Kenshin did not own a hanko-, but she had recognized the clumsy handwriting of the wanderer.

"Again?"

"Yes, again."

Kaoru had always kept her distance from the former Shinsengumi. He had certainly helped them a few times, but he had also already openly attacked them when he had needed it, implying that he could quite knock them down without any remorse. Everything depended on whether one was on his side or not. Finally, only Kenshin seemed able to get along with him. According to her, he was openly taking advantage of the former patriot to help him in his missions, and although this one was perfectly lucid of the situation and sometimes remunerated as such, she still had the unpleasant sensation that Saito was systematically bringing out what was worst in the former Ishin Shishi. Besides, knowing the way he had entered their lives by hurting Sanosuke... No, definitely, although she had learned to respect his sense of duty, she did not trust him.

"Hmm."

Hiko did not like that either. It was too early. After the two battles against Shishio and Enishi who had worn out his body, it was too early.

 _ _Bah. Maybe I underestimate the strength of my stupid disciple ...__

"...On what kind of affair did they send him?"

The master was proving himself curious, which was unusual on his part. After all, he had not come all that way down from Kyoto for nothing.

"Ah..." she sighed again. "It's rather sordid... A case of pedophilia, I believe."

"...OF WHAT ?!" Hiko instantly spat the tea he had in his mouth.

 _ _Kami-sama!__

He was beginning to have a very, very bad feeling about this...

Yahiko and Kaoru were staring wide-eyed at the master, who had barely missed letting go of his cup while jumping. This picture of the dignified and proud man accidentally scattering a hot liquid on his jacket could almost have been comical, if it were not for his frankly alarmed look.

"Where is he?!"

"What do you mean? Is he in danger?" Kaoru reacted instinctively.

"It's more complicated than that, I have no time to explain you! We must join him, and quickly!"

Seijuro had risen, his intense black eyes temporarily paralyzing his interlocutors. His powerful aura, alert, was crushing them into a dull threat that was yet not directed at them. Hiko had a visceral presentiment, and this would not suffer any further delay. No one stands between a master of Hiten Mitsurugi and his disciple.

"L-let's go to the police station," she stammered as she rested her cup, "Saito should be able to tell us!"

The tall master shot towards the door without waiting for them, followed painfully by the two acolytes who were tramping the pavement hurriedly.

 _ _If I'm right, then it might be already too late...!__

* * *

He arrived at the suspect factory, out of breath after his run on the flooded lands of Saitama. He had walked straight from the district where the police station was located in Tokyo, spending his last yen on a carriage that had dropped him only at two-thirds of the way. His previously white now gray hakama was soaked, his hair stuck to his face with a mixture of salt and water. He was paying no attention to the slight trembling of his limbs under the effect of the cold. In his head, confusion was reigning.

From the beginning this affair had shaken him, stirring something disturbing deep inside of him ... obstructing his reasoning ability, blurring his judgment, turning his mind to one and only thing ...the potentials slaves. The children.

Himura slipped against the metal walls of the abandoned factory, blending into the shadows with the ease of an assassin. Succeeding in not being spotted by the henchmen of the traffickers was essential for this mission. Alone, with a wounded arm limiting the use of his sword, his part was mainly to assess the situation and to engage the fight only as a last resort.

He crossed the -empty- entrance hall noiselessly. A simple lure, since in the adjoining room stood two armed adults with a neglected outfit that he had immediately felt at their menacing ki, too absorbed in their own conversation to pay attention to the passage of a shadow. If their mere presence was enough to confirm the suspicions of the police, he still had to determine the location of the victims to avoid a future bloodbath. What he was determined to do, whatever it would take. Kenshin therefore chose to take a flight of stairs on his left to bypass them, preferring to avoid as much as possible human presence. A series of corridors with oozing and rusty walls ensued. No need to be a doctor to understand that the conditions of hygiene were so precarious that it would have been easy to catch tetanus, just by bumping one of the few protruding nails out of the past colored metal sheet. Mud was staining the ground, making his footprints visible, fortunately mixed with others. He silently cursed his bad luck. Not a living soul, but as he was progressing he gradually perceived the noises resonant of rooms below. Chain sounds, high-pitched screams contrasting with guttural ones, signs of human presence. And of children. His pulse accelerated abruptly, transmitting this impulse to his legs. He walked more and more rapidly, as if pushed by an invisible force.

 _ _Hayaku ...__

By hurrying, he was paying less attention to his own discretion, and what had to happen happened : at the turn of an umpteenth hall, he came face to face with a bearded individual he had not felt coming.

"Kuso!" he blew

The man had hardly time to realize the situation that the fire-haired former patriot, driven by the urgency of the situation and taking advantage of his natural speed, had already jumped on his neck while wrapping his arm around his respiratory passage. The more the man was struggling, the more he was fiercely clutching his embrace.

 _ _He must not raise the alarm...!__

After a series of violent convulsions, the individual lost the strength to move and began to suffocate. Kenshin cautiously waited until no more sounds came out of his throat before he relaxed his muscles and silently supported the fall of the man on the ground. He then pulled the unconscious body into a shady corner of the intersection, behind a rough heap of wooden boxes and ropes. An insufficient cover, but acceptable for the time he intended to spend in this sordid place.

He went on his way, attentive to the slightest noise and the slightest aura. Himura had several times to bury himself under an obstacle or behind a door, sometimes clinging to the wet metal bars of the ceiling, to dodge the passage of individuals probably making a round in this area. After a few detours without another mishap, he arrived at a small terrace overlooking the vast room occupying the main part of the building. Such an exposed spot was risky, but ... from there, he would have a unique perspective on what was really going on inside, and with a little hope, on the plan of the building. He would only have one short opportunity to seize. Kenshin crouched, slid down the floor to the dusty guardrail, and lifted his face.

And, instinctively, looking at the north corner of the room, he saw...

 ** _ **Kami-sama ...**_**

...He saw the kids tied to the walls by ropes and rusty chains, standing in their filth. Some were crying, the majority seeming too frightened to open their mouths. Some were naked. Blood dripping on their legs.

When he understood what the business here was truly about, he nearly vomited. Memories very long repressed were re-surfacing precisely in his memory. Too precisely. Kenshin was seized with a sudden, violent nausea. His mind was momentarily lost in considerations as gloomy as nauseating... because, he knew what was really happening to these kids... ****HE KNEW****

His body, intuitively, began to shake. As if he was waking up from a long nightmare that was proving to be reality...

Perhaps was it because he was deeply immersed in the past that he did not hear the two men arriving behind him.

Perhaps was it because he was deeply immersed in the past that he did not feel their strong arms clasping him until it was too late.

Perhaps was it also because he was smelling everywhere the foul scent of rape, suspended in the atmosphere of the factory, that his body was completely paralyzed...

"Look at what we have here! That's the one who has knocked out Fujihiro?"

The slavers were holding him so firmly in his back that he could not free himself with his injured arm. They must have discovered the body badly hidden in the hallway.

"He's put on a hell of a mess for such a small and skinny guy!"

"Yeah, what a threat... fuckin' shame for Fuji!"

They laughed loudly.

The wanderer froze. His upper limbs being blocked, his sword was out of reach. And, in spite of his desperate efforts, the weariness of the last weeks had drained him of his energy and made improbable his escape from a hand-to-hand combat against several men whose physical constitution was superior to his own. They were so close to him that he could feel their putrid breath right against his neck.

"He's wrestlin' like a slut!" pursued Mashiro between two breaths

"Come on... Let's see what could we do with him? Slit his throat ?!"

The stronger of the two leaned against him, flattening his heavy body against his. Instinctively, Kenshin realized they would not kill him right away.

 ** _ **IYA**_**

His primary reflexes immediately took over. He pulled down with all his might to dislocate his already weakened right shoulder, clenching his teeth in pain. The limb now flaccid allowed him to free a little space, enough to slip under the massive body of the thug.

"K'SO!" Mashiro growled, feeling him move against him

Before he had time to realize that he had disappeared from his embrace, the former assassin squeezed his feet to the ground with his calves and sent him crashing rolling on his side, ignoring the suffering that the movement provoked again in its articulation.

"Don't let him escape!" shouted the second man who had brandished his pistol.

Kenshin calculated the situation very quickly. His right arm was now unusable and was throbbing painfully, limiting considerably the possibilities of use of his katana. The first man was going to get up from one moment to another and the second one was holding him in respect with his firearm. It would not take much time either before other thugs show up.

The former Ishin Shishi brandished his still sheathed sword in his left hand without the slightest hesitation. He was far from being as dexterous as with his other side, but in the absence of better... He struck a violent tsuki blow in the plexus of Mashiro who was standing up, cutting his breath for precious minutes.

*BANG*

He deflected his colleague's bullet at the last moment with the sheath of the katana, but the shot fired at close range sent a jolt throughout his body.

 _ _My reflexes are slow... it's not good.__

No doubt. His body was not responding as well as before. Between the exhaustion of the many nights of insomnia and the excesses of drink that had resulted, Kenshin noted with concern that his muscles and his brain were no longer obeying him exactly as he wanted.

 _ _RUN.__

He hurried down the corridor, following the opposite path of the one he had chosen. In his haste, he had not taken the time to retrieve the gun of the man he had knocked out with a strike from behind the neck just after his shot. He did not want to have a deadly weapon in his hands, especially not in such a desperate situation. God knows what reflex he could have.

 _ _Before others arrive ...__

Arrived at the corner of the corridor, the samurai stopped dead in his race. Alerted by the sound of the gunshot, a group of men, armed to the teeth, were heading straight for him.

 _ _Shimatta!__

He threw himself head first into the fray. Being in the middle of them was the best way to escape the shots. The former assassin swung his sword from side to side, leaning on the bodies of some and sliding under the others, using his dead arm as cushioning when he bounced on the corrugated iron wall. He broke the jaw of the first man who was coming in, crushed the cubitus of the man who was at the same time extending his arm towards him to catch him, emasculated with the sheath the one whom he had slipped between the legs, sheared with the finally released blade the pistol of the man entrenched at the back who had raised his weapon right afterwards. The ambient humidity was not facilitating its task since it had covered the metal floor with an unstable layer making each of his movements precarious. The thud of the rain was still rumbling outside. Scents of blood, metal and powder were mixed in the air. And, in the background of these, as an atrocious reminder of his own past, the grime smell of body fluids and tears of children ...

He had already taken down the two-thirds of the people around him when he suddenly slipped, unbalanced by the weight of his motionless arm and the stinging return of his previous nausea ...

"I GOT HIM !"

He felt a sharp pain in his left shoulder that took his breath away, then his body was brutally lifted off the ground. Someone had caught him from behind. Mashiro, who had recovered his breath, had joined his colleagues and was firmly keeping the wanderer in the air, crushing this time shamelessly his dislocated joint. Stunned by his fierce retching, Kenshin had not felt him coming back. He was struggling furiously, ignoring the pain that was radiating until his lower back. The trafficker by twisting his arm had fractured anew the bone. Since his upper limbs were unusable, he tried to use his feet to hammer his opponent's torso... if only he could manage to hit his liver with a sharp and well-placed blow of his heel, then he could hope to knock him out this way ...but without impetus he was sorely lacking strength. Another man then came to the help the first thug and grabbed his legs. Himura was briefly immobilized.

"I'm holdin' him!"

"Mashiro, don't move!"

Kenshin turned at the last second, just in time to see in horror that his colleague had pressed the trigger. The bullet whistled near his ear and violently struck the left side of his skull.

Light.

Off.


	14. If the walls could cry

_**Warning :**_ **this chapter contains violence** , I therefore remind you of the initial M rating. I've nonetheless indicated the scene with the following sign **[*]**.

* * *

 _ **Lexique :**_

Tanuki: mammal that resembles a raccoon

Nestuke: a traditional Japanese men's clothing accessory, attached to the belt (obi) and used to hold sagemono (literally "hanging objects") such as inrôs (compartment boxes), writing materials (yatate), purse, holster (kiseru-zutsu)... Kimono doesn't actually have pockets, so the objects are hanging at the obi of their owner by a cord attached to the netsuke, which placed above the upper edge of the belt serves to maintain the sagemono. Netsuke has the shape of a small wooden/ivory or carved metal object, representing animals, masks, erotic scenes or demons, Buddhist characters...

Kisama: bastard

Shinjimae: go to hell

Konoyaro: asshole

* * *

 _ **Chapitre 14:**_ If the walls could speak, they would cry out your name

* * *

At first, he believed he had heard a sound. Voices... but nothing decipherable. Then, he felt something. The bouncing of a horse, or a cart. Or a boat. It seemed to him that he was being transported. His sixth sense was screaming at him that something wasn't normal. Kenshin desperately tried to get back to consciousness, to get out of the dark abyss into which he was constantly threatening to dive, but the light was blinding him every time he made an attempt to open his eyes. And that frightful pain in his skull... So strong that it was the only thing he could feel throughout his entire body... So strong that it was... paralyzing him?

 _What... what happened?_

Impossible to move. The oscillation of his body was causing him a violent nausea, his brain maltreated by a dull hammering in the left hemisphere. He had probably vomited several times already, because he was feeling the acid aftertaste at the back of his throat, and the disgusting smell around him indicated that his clothes must have held back a part of it. So there was a problem with his head. A serious one, judging by the extreme difficulty he had to simply stay awake.

 _A bullet... I was shot in the head?_

Fragmented images returned to his eyes, but nothing concrete. The more he was reflecting, the more the pain was increasing. He ended up relinquishing the idea to simply open his eyelids, or even to remember anything, only to focus on the buzz in his brain and a poor stabilization in the shakes. Otherwise, he was definitely going to vomit again, and he was not sure he would have the strength to prevent the burning liquid from getting into his lungs, if he could not contract his diaphragm and open his mouth properly to get it out by natural paths.

The vaguely human sounds were increasing in intensity. They seemed jerky to him. Had anyone seen that he had woken up? Another shake. Oh, that pain in his skull...

The voices faded, and darkness enveloped him again.

* * *

Saito Hajime was on a war footing. From the beginning this case didn't please him. First by its content, then by the direction it was taking. It was past twenty hours, and he still had no news of Himura sent in the early afternoon to the suspected site. To top it off, the Kamiya dojo's herd had landed at the police station, claiming that it was urgent to hurry on the spot, forcing the former Mibu to improvise a rapid intervention team... composed due to the late hour only of himself and his undesirable guests, including that arrogant Kenjutsu master with a prohibitive cloak that horrified the officer (this man had indeed exactly the same sharp tongue as him).

They had therefore reluctantly taken the Saitama road together, and after an hour and a half of cart and caustic remarks exchanged -Seijuro finally choosing the roof of the vehicle, arguing that he wanted to be as far as possible from their company- they had at last arrived at the meeting place.

The building in question was an immense lugubrious factory dominated by two metal chimneys, theoretically abandoned. An unusual silence for the countryside normally brightened by the sounds of rodents and other nocturnal inhabitants was enveloping it with its leaden blanket. The master of Hiten Mitsurugi tensed.

 _This feeling..._

He knew this strange silence. It was that of the irrational calm that preceded, or followed, the obscene abyss of human cruelty...

 _I was probably right..._

Hiko narrowed his eyes. And took a deep breath. If ever his disciple was truly inside...

 _God pity the foolish souls that would get into my way._

At the officer's request, they made a careful inspection of the factory surroundings, hidden in the dark, wild and disordered shrubs around it, looking for any sign of activity - much to the chagrin of Hiko who had decreed the idea ridiculous and useless, which had earned him an interesting glaring contest with his colleague of the police. Once certain that they would not fall into an obvious trap, the former Shinsengumi gave them permission to enter inside, with the utmost caution - this time to the delight of Hiko, who was bubbling over with enthusiasm to fight with the supposed slavers.

Saito and Seijuro naturally opened the march, sneaking like a breath of air despite their imposing stature, followed at a distance by the courageous master of Kamiya Kasshin and her disciple, who formed the rearguard of the short intervention team. From the vast entrance hall, an atrocious odor on which no one had the modesty to make a comment, seized them by the throat in a putrescent wave.

On the closed lips of each of them, at that moment, was a single question...

 **...What did really happen here?**

Kaoru instinctively felt a shiver run through her back. Even with her meager skills, she could distinguish the macabre atmosphere, relic of the dark acts that must have been perpetrated here, which was impenetrably weighing on the building.

 _What is this place? It's anything but a factory..._

She moved closer to her disciple, the fabric of their hakamas barely a few inches away, beginning to regret having dragged her so young student into this place whose oozing walls seemed to whisper horrors of another age. Yahiko, as for him, remained close to his master, feeling the dull anguish that was gaining her as much as him. The two men at the front did not utter a word. Each of them firmly focused on his own progress. They met with mountains of dust, dubious secretions mixed with excrement and worrisome bloodstains, but no other living soul than a handful of rats who fled at their approach, making sing their clawed paws like rain on the metal pipes.

It had been more than an hour since they had arrived there, they had already explored the main parts of the factory, and had found so far nor slavers nor samurai with cross-shaped scar. However, signs of human activity scattered here and there showed that the area had been recently occupied. Remains of food, mud and filth, as well as dirty chains and ropes that had nothing to do in such a place.

"They were here only a few hours ago," Hiko observed expertly, using his perfect self-control to mask his disgust as much as his rage. "It is likely that we've just missed them..."

However, he hadn't noticed any suspicious movement of population while he had scrupulously inspected the landscape during the travel, thanks to his dominating position. Obviously, the traffickers knew their work well. But above all, there was no trace of his disciple's aura...

 _That doesn't bode well..._

"Where is he then?! Where did Kenshin go ?!"

Since they had officially declared that the building was indeed probably empty, Kaoru was bawling like a banshee -expressing aloud what the others were thinking in a low voice- and turning over absolutely everything in her path, much to the chagrin of officer Fujita and the thirteenth master of Hiten Mitsurugi, little fond of acute cries as much as of emotional bursts.

"It looks like they had to leave hastily after Battosai's arrival," Saito grumbled, seeing the mess of his first real track emerging in the horizon. "Try to be cautious, some of them might have nonetheless stayed behind to watch this place."

Yahiko grabbed his master by the sleeve with a surprisingly soft gesture, promptly channeling her attention. He swallowed.

"I'm sure we'll find him, it's Kenshin after all..." although inwardly still petrified, he was trying to reassure his master as much as himself. The only pupil of the Kamiya Kasshin school had an unusualy brave temper for a boy of his age. "This factory is sordid, though..."

The unhealthy atmosphere that covered every wall, every room, every corner of the place was sticking to their skin like a layer of sweat. As if the ghosts of what had happened here - whatever it was - were still roaming among the excrement on the ground.

"He's supposed to be there, isn't he ?!" continued the young kendoka whose fear was gradually replaced by anger, unable to change the subject. The idea that Kenshin had disappeared in such a place was insupportable to her.

 _If something bad ever happened to him..._ She stumbled on an obstacle on the ground ... _Stop! I mustn't think about that! We are still only looking for him!_ ...which turned out to be the body a rodent of imposing size, probably dead for several days judging by the colonies of worms that had settled on it.

"Hyaaaaaaaa !"

"Does this tanuki know how to shut her mouth?" the policeman sighed, passing a hand over his forehead.

"It's not my fault if my stupid disciple has grown fond of her," Hiko grinned in a low voice. "And if there's any idiot remaining in this hideout, we can be sure that he has fled or hidden by now..."

 _I should never have brought the girl and her kid with me..._ at least Hiko and Saito agreed on one point.

Although frankly annoyed by her impulsive temperament, the master was also sincerely grateful that a brave and generous woman had infatuated with Kenshin. Nothing better to treat the hard head and the ravaged heart of his disciple. For a long time, he had thought that he would wander all his life on the roads like a lost soul, thus escaping the smallest chance of happiness. He would never have imagined that one day he would settle down somewhere, and even more that he would once again be in a relationship – moreover with a woman younger than him and rather pleasing to the eye (certainly, in good faith, a talent inherited from his master). He had after all, raised him alone in the mountains by himself the hard way, forging his character only for the fight in these difficult times -the rest should have come later, but his foolish student had left him before-. This new beginning was therefore for him as unexpected as providential...

"Instead of brooding over sterile matters, try to look for things that might be useful to us," continued the policeman. He had no intention to spend more time than necessary in this absurd grime.

Yahiko was lifting almost everything he could find, in a more or less orderly fashion, while his assistant master was wandering recklessly from room to room, shinai in hand. The young kendoka, panicked, had only the worst in mind. She knew that lately her beloved had not been himself anymore. The sudden arrival of his master and his disappearance could not be pure happenstance.

 _I can't believe we were just finally enjoying life together, maybe even getting married in a while_... She shook her head… _That's enough! Stop assuming every unfavorable possibility, Kaoru!_

Hajime continued to secure the building while Seijuro focused on reading the kis... and could not find that of his disciple. He had projected his aura throughout the building but had felt only vestiges of the redhead's characteristic signature. Vestiges filled with suffering...

 _...what the heck has happened in this factory?_

The thirteenth master of Hiten Mitsurugi had a dark face.

"My foolish disciple has probably been in this place... but what is certain is that he's no longer here."

"Do... do you think he would've followed them elsewhere?"

Kaoru was anxiously twiddling the sleeves of her kimono. She had not taken the time to change her clothes before coming, urged by the imposing kenjutsu master to get there as soon as possible.

"Maybe, Miss Kamiya, maybe..." _But... it doesn't look that way._

"He has followed them, or he has been kidnapped ..." Saito added dryly. "Or simply killed. At this point, any option is possible."

"Do you have to be so sinister?"

Yahiko absolutely did not like the innuendo of the officer.

"I'm not sinister, boy, I'm merely pragmatic. If he's not here anymore, that means he has left the scene, by hook _or_ by crook, dead _or_ alive. You aren't likely to become an investigator by eliminating every possibility you don't like, kid ... "

"Ah, so I guess you become one by being a sarcastic jerk?"

Hiko had that curious sense of honor that allowed him to be the only one to have the right to make fun of his disciple or any of his friends. The former Shinsengumi gave him an angry look but didn't push the matter further. On the one hand an argument would be a waste of time, and on the other hand he had no desire to confront himself unnecessarily to the formidable thirteenth master of Hiten Mitsurugi. His ki was even more powerful than that of his student, himself already the worst enemy of the Shogun forces during the Bakumatsu. And he had already had his quota for the day ; the investigation of this horrible building in itself was enough...

While turning towards him, his eye stopped on a small balcony that gave an overview of the large room in which they were. Instinct of the policeman. Or of the hunting dog, depending on the point of view.

"... there's still a part that we haven't visited. This way."

The officer took a back door, behind which a rusty iron spiral staircase was leading to a higher corridor, seeming to go around the building.

"It's your fault, Saito!" Kaoru insisted all the while climbing the stairs at full speed behind him, her breath short. She did not understand the officer's maneuvers. "Why did you throw him alone in the lion's den?"

"It wasn't supposed to be their damn headquarters! According to the reports of the spies I had sent on the spot, it was merely a hideout... And his mission was only to check these information and to draw up an evacuation plan for the victims, not to intervene!"

"But still...!"

 _And why on earth am I trying to explain myself..._ he mumbled, lighting a cigarette. He too was annoyed by the turn of events. The disappearance of Battosai, in addition to being a problem in itself, had greatly complicated the continuation of his investigation. As he had initially feared, if the traffickers had fled, one might as well look for a needle in a haystack now that they knew they were hunted by the police. And, ironically, it was exactly what he had sought to avoid in the first place.

"And even if it were the case, the Battosai I know would never have been caught... I wonder what he has done to get to this point, that idiot."

 _I saw him fight at Amaya yokocho's market... he was still fearsome._

"If something has happened to him, it's only because of his own incapacity. My techniques are infallible." retorted the master seriously, raising his cloak with a gesture as broad as modest. They had not found any body, but he had the feeling that something had gone wrong. Kenshin must have made a mistake.

"I have to say that I've found him tired lately," the young kendoka replied, lowering her blue gaze to the ground. She thought back of these last weeks, and his unusual behavior. "You don't want to see that, but Kenshin is only a human being... And he would never have gone far without warning me first, I'm sure of that..."

"...such a presumptuous young woman!" the officer chuckled, spitting a puff of smoke in her direction. "I know Battosai _better than you_..."

Kaoru glared at him, but he ignored her openly, solely interested by the current mission. Once at the upper floor, they found themselves in a humid corridor surrounded by corrugated iron. Even at several meters height, the frightful putrid fragrance was persisting.

 _If at least we could get used to that..._ despaired the only woman of this improvised intervention group. Her clothes were ruined. At this point and given the smell, she would not even try to wash them.

All the while walking, her disciple was still searching the area frantically.

"There, I've found something that could be useful!"

The little boy brandished from a heap of collapsed wooden crates a porcelain nestuke, shaped like a little monkey.

"And what are we supposed to do with this crap, moron?" Saito felt his patience crumbling.

"A nestuke is a private item," Hiko pointed, stroking his with pride. A solid coral dragon.

"Remind me to record that in the police files..."

 _We're in the Meiji era for God's sake, modern people are carrying bags_... he sighed, bored by the useless conversation.

Definitely, he would have to light a second cigarette soon to survive this appalling search. This little discussion had at least the merit of warming the atmosphere, and the motley group continued to progress at a better pace in the sodden corridors.

Right after the corner with a heap of crates, at the end of the passage, one could see a small balcony that gave a wide view on the interior space of the factory. And the landscape at this place was completely different... Hiko strictly stripped the environment with his gaze, focusing even more on what he could feel : still no living soul, but...

 _Signs of struggle, everywhere._

Near the balustrade, a bullet on the ground. In the corridor, wet footprints, deformations in the corrugated iron, and blood. A lot of blood.

"... people have been fighting here."

"Thank you for stating the obvious," the officer completed.

"HE has been fighting." Hiko corrected, raising an eyebrow. Some hand prints had a terribly familiar shape.

 _At least five persons._

"No corpse, that's a start." Saito added. "On both sides."

Kaoru, as for her, wasn't breathing anymore. Her eyes were wide and her lips were shaking.

"That..."

"Hm?"

"It's... it's..."

In her palm, a handful of red hair stuck by dried blood.

* * *

When he woke up again, the pain in his head was less severe. Or maybe had he already woken up in the meantime? He had no idea. What was certain was that with the decrease of his headache's intensity he was feeling now another pain, which started from the right shoulder and spread all over the back and the ribcage. His hands were tied above his head, between them and on the wall, twisting his arms and his dislocated joint in an inhospitable angle. At least he was able to move his legs anew. Although with very little space, since his feet were also tied by ropes on both sides of the hard ground. He knew that moving his hands would only increase the suffering, so he refrained from trying any superfluous movements for now. He was feeling awfully weak, and plunging into darkness because of the pain was certainly not a good idea.

 _Unconscious... how long...?_

The blood on his clothes had long been coagulated, as well as traces that looked like bilious regurgitations. He did not remember having vomited, but his throat was dry and burned horribly. Given the way his stomach twisted and his vision got filled with luminescent dots every time he moved, he had probably not eaten for days.

 _...Where?_

Failing to do more for the moment, he decided to methodically explore his environment. It was a small, dusty room, lit only by the light that filtered out of the corrugated sheets, fastened together by insufficiently tighten bolts. No furniture, except small iron containers at the corner of the place, out of his reach. The soil was made of rusty concrete, and the ropes that were holding him were partially covered with greenish fungiform colonies.

And then there was that smell... the smell of iodine and salt that was enveloping his nostrils. By focusing, he could hear a low, steady sound in the distance.

 _Waves... the sea?_

Obviously, he had been moved. Far enough to be close to the ocean, which meant almost a day of travel. And he did not remember that either.

 _M-My head..._

Kenshin was closing his eyelids alternately. The pain in his skull was throbbing relentlessly, regularly. At every second, he had to force himself to stay awake, tempted by the appalling ache to fall back into the comforting pit of unconsciousness. In this situation, fainting could mean never getting up again... And Himura had a mission to accomplish, and loved ones to find back.

*Clunk*

A sound of key in the door. He had not felt the presence of the fellow before he opened the heavy metal structure, and that spoke volumes about the condition of his reflexes. A massive man with putrefied teeth entered the room.

"Take it, it's for ya."

He tossed a bowl of cold, glued rice at his feet, which partly scattered on the floor. The prisoner did not have the strength to raise his head, but noted the raw intonation of his interlocutor.

"Chief says tha' if ya don't eat, ya won't last long."

The guard untied his wrists from the wall, and his arms lacking at the same time of both energy and blood fell to his sides in a dry sound. Kenshin lost his visual focus for a brief moment from the pain.

"Wanna keep ya alive," he continued in spite of his silence, "thinks yar famous an' ya can be useful... If it was up to me, I'd already've dropped ya in a hole for ya to die _like the trash you are_!"

*Rhhrcccccc spuuuuhhh...*

The thug spat right next to him. Kenshin chose not to pay attention to his tormentor but rather to concentrate on fighting his abominable vertigo in order to catch the bowl. Unable to move his right arm, he could not stretch the other one far enough to reach the precious food.

"F-far... T-t-too far away..."

His brain could not formulate words correctly. And his own incapacity was upsetting him.

 _I have to... recover ..._

"Eat !"

In rage, the guard kicked the iron utensil that went crashing into his face, irritated by the seeming slowness of his prisoner.

 _Do not... react..._

Exhausted both morally and physically, the samurai sensed his usually severely controlled hot blood ready to boil. But he knew he would be no match for a barehanded fight. Not in his condition. He needed to recover some strength first. And for that, he had to eat.

Thus, he ignored the provocations and began to patiently eat the flabby rice grains that had landed near him and on his face, almost one by one. Even if his stomach was protesting heavily, the more food he could swallow, the more likely he was to have any chance to escape one day. He did not have a plan yet, but one thing after another, it would end up coming anyway. His life having never been a fairy tale, Battosai the assassin just like Shinta the slave or Kenshin the wanderer, were sadly familiar with extreme situations where survival instinct was taking over the rest.

Just when he thought the situation was getting a little better, he heard a second person enter the room. The guard fastened the wanderer's wrists to the wall, apologized, and left while carefully locking up the door behind him. Something inside him knew it was not a good sign. He had never been captured himself, but he had had the opportunity to visit the jails of the Ishin Shishi a number of times. A prisoner who was locked up alone in his cell with a guard... oh no, that was definitely not a good sign.

"Well, well... So _this_ is the spy the police has sent?"

The samurai meticulously observed his interlocutor. He had an unhealthy smile surmounted by small, glistening dark eyes and a balding head on which dark hair was cut short. What was more surprising, however, was this colorful tattoo that was covering most of the visible parts of his body, coming out of the forearms and back up his neck to his scalp, drawing carps and chrysanthemums intermixed in an almost disturbing picture. A black garment in one piece, clenched by little matt buttons, completed the whole thing.

His features were not entirely Asian, a sign that his lineage had probably crossed with Westerners at one time or another. In appearance, he looked better-off and smarter than the brute who had preceded him. Their supervisor maybe. Immobilized and silent, Kenshin engraved his portrait in his memory.

The man approached his face a few inches from his, and the wanderer was able to get a clearer glimpse of him. And of his deeply cruel stare. Had he not been a cold-blooded murderer, sowing death as easily as he breathed, he would have felt a thrill of apprehension running through him.

Instead, he held his gaze with two icy cobalt eyes.

"...W-who are ...y-you?" His voice sounded rough in his throat.

The man grabbed his chin and turned his head, examining him like cattle.

"You were lucky, Battosai, the bullet has lodged in the bone without going further. You will not die. At least, not right now."

Secretly, he suspected him to have moved his head at the last second to minimize the impact. Even injured, this prisoner should not be taken lightly.

"Who are you... ?"

"You can thank mother nature for giving you so characteristic traits," he continued without paying any attention to his question. "Had I not recognized you, my men would have killed you without the slightest afterthought. Which would have been a pity, actually, knowing that a former patriot like you will make an excellent bargaining chip... should the police ever find us."

Indeed, he suspected for several weeks the formidable inspector Goro Fujita to be on his trail, which the arrival of the famous assassin in the pay of the patriots had confirmed. If his reputation was deserved, it meant that their time here was also running out, and soon it would be necessary to remove all the safe houses and change their circles of travel. Maybe even hiding in the shadows for a few months...

"You do know that you got us into a lot of trouble by coming to Saitama. We had to leave the factory at full speed, and I even figured that you were going to escape my men at some point... It's the police who has sent you here, am I right? "

"...what are you ...tra-trafficking there?" _Damned speech impediment!_

"I'M THE ONE ASKING THE QUESTIONS HERE !"

The temperament of the man suddenly exploded, and he grabbed the red hair with an iron fist. Despite the pain in the wound of his skull, the samurai kept his face impassive. To provoke nothing -nor anger nor satisfaction-, to show nothing -nor rebellion nor submission-, was the key to survival in such situations. Kenshin being in a position of inferiority, his opponent could take advantage of the slightest weakness to crush him, and he was perfectly aware of that.

There was a moment of hesitation, several minutes during which the tattooed man, obviously schizophrenic, was assessing his prisoner. But as he was staring at him like an animal in a cage, trying to pierce through his soul, the eyes of the wanderer were gradually losing their light... He heard them anew. These little thin voices, whose cries and tears were lost in the sound of the waves.

 _ **...The children!**_

Kenshin was once again lost in his own world. A wind of panic was crossing him. The images of the day before... or the second day before, he had no clue... were beginning to come back to him. He knew he was there, not far from them, tied up in that sordid room, unable to move... unable to help. In other words, useless. And this thought, knowing the terrible suffering they had to endure, was simply unbearable for him... Instantly cursing his powerlessness, sensing the irrepressible urge to act, Kenshin saw an inexorable anger gradually win over his wary nerves.

"...W-what are you doing to them?" he whispered between his clenched teeth.

Ferociously, gutturaly, the fellow laughed. At that moment, the samurai's instinct should have told him that this man was sadistic. Mad as a hatter. And dangerous. But he was exhausted, and his judgment was as impaired as his vision was blurred. He could barely feel his own ki.

"Don't play the innocent with me, Battosai... I thought you had a glimpse of our pretty supply, from the top of the east railing?"

 **"What are you doing to them?!"**

The trafficker jumped a little at the suddenly abrupt sound of his voice. Had his irises not swiftly changed color by the way? Never mind, it would be ridiculous to worry about such details while his prisoner was hurt, hand and foot tied up in front of him.

"I am a man of trade. After all, their bodies are like any other goods, and you cannot imagine what price people are willing to pay for their precious virginity..." He seemed to enjoy hearing himself talk. "These children have nowhere to go, somehow I do them a favor."

Kenshin took a deep breath.

He could understand the thieves, the crooks, the drug addicts, the smugglers. The killers. He could discuss with them of their motives and their mistakes. He could forgive. Having known the deepest shadows allowed him to distinguish the weakest lights. He was tirelessly searching for the glow of goodness in every person he met.

But the slavers... who were selling souls for money, without ideal, without objective other than profit, and at the cost of so much human suffering... Kenshin Himura, with his whole being, despised them. While he considered himself as trash, those were in his heart individuals of the worst kind.

 _Kisama..._

In his head, the cries of children were echoing again and again. Unfortunately, his personal experience of slavery during his early childhood did nothing to prevent this feeling. He loathed these people in every way, and this visceral hatred was about to cost him dearly.

" **Kisama...** " repeated the vagabond, aloud this time.

Oh no, the tattooed did not like these hot amber eyes that were piercing him. Not at all.

"It seems like you don't understand your position quite clearly... you'd better watch HOW YOU TALK TO ME!" **[*]**

The man grabbed his neck without warning and wrapped his fingers around his throat, pressing with all his might. Kenshin was suddenly silenced, suffocating. His trachea crushed under the brutal impulse of the slaver.

 ***HhrgHHhhhh***

As he was struggling to breathe, emitting furious and stifled gurgles, the thug began to deliver angry strikes of his knees in his abdomen. Mad, unpredictable... and violent. Lips quartered in order to swallow an air from which he was deprived, on the brink of collapsing, Kenshin was furiously trying to defend himself... but with his four limbs bound, the poor man had neither range of motion nor energy, and soon his eyes were rolling upside while becoming tinged of a vitreous white.

When he began to convulse because of the lack of oxygen, the slaver released his neck. The wanderer spat a mixture of drool and blood, coughing and expectorating violently, brutally recovering breath from his lungs. Instead, the enraged thug began to bang his skull against the wall, gripping his red hair with his other hand, while furiously crushing his feet with his leather heels. As his lucidity was slowly returning to him, Himura felt the pain again frightfully imprint itself on his body. In his condition, with every movement he managed to do and every stroke of his aggressor, the suffering threatened to make him faint again. Worse, every shock on the head was stunning him dangerously. But his fury was intact. His hoarse, grave voice erupted like a sharp blade.

" **Shinjimae** "

His disadvantaged position should have prompted him to stay quiet... but the rage of the former Ishin Shishi was flaming dangerously, submerging him momentarily as the sea which crashed at the same time mercilessly on the metal walls of the dismal shed.

"KNOW YOUR PLACE, PIECE OF SHIT!"

The man had shouted directly in his ear but Kenshin perceived his voice with a disturbing distance. As if his body and mind had separated from each other, and were accurately dissecting, analyzing and memorizing each aggression. The trafficker mercilessly beat him like a ragged doll, until his ribs writhed and his body started to shake violently, but his prisoner's chilling eyes were still staring at him with their terrifying amber glow, promise of an imminent death. And yet no cry of supplication was coming out of his mouth. Kenshin was clenching his teeth, his lips, until blood pulls out of it, but showed nothing. That pain he knew all too well.

"I CAN BREAK YOU!"

He took his thumb, and while still looking at him straight in the eye, slowly twisted it back. The wanderer narrowed his eyelids, reflexively pushing his joint as hard as he could in the opposite direction, thrusting his nails into any skin he could find, but the trafficker pulled, pulled, pulled, using the strength of both hands, until a sickening creak was heard. The pain sent a dry electric shock into his arm, but he did not beg. Without waiting, the man grasped another finger... and did the same for all those of his right hand, forcing on them in the opposite direction of their bending until they broke. But those damn burning irises were still staring at him. Worse, he had not even blinked.

 _A demon..._

"I'LL MAKE YOU SWALLOW YOUR FUCKING PRIDE !"

Out of it, desperate to crush his prisoner's mind, the slaver seized his disabled arm and pressed on the fracture with all his strength, shifting the bone under his hands into the underlying muscles and nerves. Another crack was heard and blood began to run down his skin. But that did not stop him from continuing to triturate the tissues fiercely. The so-hated eyes finally closed, brutally. But his lips were still moving.

Struggling against agony, driven mad by the unbearable pain, Himura lost all sense of reason.

" **KONO YARO !** "

"WILL YOU SHUT..."

The man finally pressed his hand on the gaping wound in his skull, still open and swollen.

"...THE FUCK UP !"

And pushed his fingers inside.

Peeled off the cartilage, displaced the blood clots, compressed the brain cells in contact with the injured cranium and the bullet that was still lodged there.

 **AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGLHH**

 **[*]**

An inhuman cry froze the blood of the guards posted outside. Who remained motionless, terrified by the prospect of seeing what was going on inside.

Unable to think, Kenshin Himura screamed, screamed and screamed at the top of his lungs.

Until the most complete darkness.

* * *

 _ **A/N : Thank you so much for your reviews ! You are the lights that guide me through my hellish days of translation. As much as I would like, I cannot spoil/reveal anything about the fic but... hang in there ! As I've said, I've got big plans for this long story since its beginning. Just know that I unconditionally love RK's characters and I'm reading all of your comments. ;)**_


	15. The will to live

Sorry for the delay, but real life is relentless and I have to fight unsolvable issues that eat a lot of my energy. ^^° Your reviews have helped me so much to finally give birth to this chapter! Thank you with all my heart !

 **Wogi wogi, Monika, Bigpeople 80099 :** I'm so glad you like this turn of the story ! I had warned since the beginning that it was M-rated and that there was a lot to come but I was afraid people wouldn't like an angsty style. Your words were so encouraging, you have motivated me a lot to finish translating (to be honest, the chapter was written since a few weeks but I couldn't get to do it) ! I'll do my best to be quicker next time ;) Thank you so much !

 **Sileavatar and Skenshingumi :** I've already answered but thank you again for giving me opinion on what is written ! Lots of huge things are yet to come !

* * *

 _ **Lexicon :**_

Deshi : disciple

* * *

 _ **Chapter 15:**_ The will to live

* * *

"…he really looks like hell. Ya think he's gonna pull through?"

Since their leader had entered the cell and they had heard this dreadful cry, their prisoner had not woken up anymore. Some phases of delirium at most during which all that was coming out of his mouth were nothing but incoherent moans. The simple fact of trying to picture the horrors he could have done to him was enough to give Mashiro goose bumps. Their leader's creativity turned out to be particularly frightening, especially in terms of torture.

"Maybe he's just lost his mind?" Genji, his colleague - a tall, dry man - had a longer experience concerning physical abuse and its effects on human brain. He had been working for the group for several years, and he had seen and done more monstrosities than he could count.

"I don't give a damn 'bout him... What bothers me is that Hirono almost wacked me by shooting him. What if I had moved ?!"

"Yeah, but think about what the leader would have done if we'd let him get away... better take a bullet!"

"Huuuh..."

Mashiro preferred not to think about it. Tominaga Matsui, their superior, could be terrifying. Even though he himself sometimes enjoyed tasting their goods - even "playing with food" - he had never met anyone so sadistic, unstable, and prone to torture. This guy was clearly nuts. However, he was as ruthless as he was intelligent and resentful, and he had a hand on the entire Japanese branch of the network... This is why no one ever dared to confront him or any of his choices, and each time the tattooed man locked himself up with a prisoner, the guards were closing their eyes and ears on what was happening inside.

"I don't get what he wants with him," Genji continued. "One moment he knocks the guy out, the next he wants him to be healed."

Their superior had not come back to check on the prisoner since that famous evening, but he had given his men precise instructions concerning him. "You have carte blanche to submit him, but keep the man alive at any cost... We may need him at one point. And don't let yourself be fooled, this one is _dangerous_!". It had been several days since his visit and the redhead had still not reopened his eyes. Sometimes the amount of rice in his bowl did slightly diminish, but no one had ever seen him move.

"...Ya think he eats while he's running wild?" Mashiro joked crudely, massaging his aching trachea. The fight to capture the police spy had badly hurt all those who had taken part in it.

"My guess is that this guy is _creepy_... He's put down a dozen of our own before even unsheathin'! Chief should never have brought his katana here! "Genji spat on the already grimy ground, ignoring the disgust of his colleague when the spittle landed only a few inches from him."I saw tha stupid thing the other day in his office... First it's weird with its blade on the wrong side, then what fuckin' use could he have of it? "

"Ya know he likes collecting little trophies from his preys... Tominaga's full of weird habits. And besides, I don't find tha' redhead so disgusting, if ya catch my drift..."

"...You're not thinkin' about havin' your way with him like ya do with the kids, are ya ?!" On second thought, nothing surprised him anymore about his young partner. Mashiro was a ball of grease and muscles shaping an imposing frame, but with a sexual appetite as immoral as insatiable. His foul perfume of perspiration was only equivalent to his piggy and malicious eyes. He was built for the job, to say the least.

"...Whatever, that's 'cause of this asshole tha' we had to give up Saitama's hideout." he pursued "Hell I preferred by far the factory to this damn shed! It stinks of salt and it pees everywhere as soon as it's raining, here!'

"Tell me about it, we've left so fast tha' I forgot to pick up my nestuke... it must've fallen during the battle... I can't carry anything now, I'm just pissed!"

His colleague glanced oddly back at him.

"Why don't ya simply put on English pants instead?"

"I don't like western stuff, I just don't feel comfortable in those..."

"...Wanna know what really sucks here? That fuckin' seagulls!" continued the older one while gesturing insanely "Next time I hear one of them yell, I swear ya, I'm gonna shoot it!"

The two thugs giggled in unison, their guttural voices echoing endlessly through the long, wet corridors. Isolated at the end of the harbor's flooded docks, no one could hear the nauseating conversations as well as the cries resulting from the sordid activities of the hangar number 41's sinister occupants.

"...Stop sweating, our time in Yokohama is running short! The chief expects to have all lading shipped to China by the end of the month."

"I hope, 'cause if we really have the cops on us, we better run off quickly..."

Mashiro and Genji went in another burst of sardonic laughter. The likelihood of the Tokyo police finding them was ridiculously low as far as they were concerned.

* * *

 _I knew it... I knew something was wrong!_

Now, Hiko was officially cursing himself for having taken so long to reach the capital. To summon Kenshin on a pedophilia case was like sending a former mouse into a cat's den. Even if he knew that his disciple was perfectly capable of defending himself or even rain hell on his captors - he had raised him, after all - what he did not know however was in what state of mind this one was... And he knew more than anyone how much the events of his childhood had once profoundly affected him. His disappearance thus sounded anything but good.

 _The more time I'll need to find him, the more likely he will be damaged..._

It had been a week now since he had vanished into thin air. Seijuro had explored all of Tokyo and its surroundings, its 11 districts and their 103 divisions, and he had found no trace of his disciple or even his ki. He had questioned each people endowed with reason that he had come across with about possible displacements of persons that were not known in their respective neighborhoods, without any result. A redhead should stand out from the crowd like a candle in the night : if someone had seen his disciple undisguised, then he would have assuredly remembered him.

 _Either he's not here..._

As he was skimming the same paths for the umpteenth time, he was cursing one by one the slobs he had to help on the long road of Tokaido. There were rare days when Seijuro was tempted to forget the promise he had himself made to his former master, right before this one left him alone with the precious last legacy of Hiten Mitsurugi... a promise to use his talent and strength to help people throughout his entire life, without ever taking sides.

 _...or his ki is too weak to be seen..._

He was looking at each passer-by, each face suspiciously. He was scanning each building. The absence of the familiar aura was despairing.

 _...or he is already dead._

For if there was one soul on Earth that Seijuro Hiko really wanted to save, it was that of his disciple.

* * *

The first stroke of chains felt like a burn.

Himura did not move.

The second, stronger, tore off a piece of his skin.

Not a movement of the underlying muscles, not even a flexion of his fingers.

The third and fourth ones, striking at the exact same place, reminded him of the sharpness of katana blows that were raining relentlessly during the battles of Bakumatsu.

No word came out of his mouth. Only a thin breath of air, which barely lifted his ribcage.

The fifth left a trail of blood in its path, then another close one did the same, followed by another again, and another again... He lost the count of the next hits.

"...Say, Genji, you're sure he's alive?"

"Of course he's not dead yet! Take a closer look Mashiro, he's still breathing!"

Body huddled in fetal position, motionless as a dead corpse, Himura was focusing all his attention on his self-control. His mistake last time was to have gotten carried away by anger, inevitably provoking that of his torturer. An inconceivable fault for an experienced swordsman such as him. One thing that his master had yet taught him at a very young age...

" _You shall show nothing! Neither your weaknesses nor your strengths!_ "

...an iron discipline in an overtrained body. Seijuro Hiko had given him a rough time while he was still a toddler having never held a sword in his hands. Trashing him to the point of unconsciousness, urging him to train until his hands bleed and cover themselves with protective calluses, sparing the boy nothing by attacking him by surprise at the slightest opportunity -day as night- , forcing him to stay alert all the time... Kenshin had gotten a raw deal, but he had received in return a teaching of inestimable value... that of knowing how to control perfectly his body and mind, at every moment.

" _Never let your emotions get the best of you, they will be as many striking opportunities for your opponents!_ "

He had managed to become one with this mantra for almost two decades... So how could he have been so stupid, so puerile to react by anger during his interrogation? Why had he failed this time rather than any other? ...Between exhaustion and pain, he was unable to think of the reasons that had led him there. These last weeks, he had made all the wrong choices... and this ultimate mistake against the tattooed man, who had left his body in a state of unimaginable weakness, had cost him dearly. This would not happen twice.

When the blows stopped to be replaced by the heat of burning charcoals just above his skin, Kenshin closed his eyelids a little more. Leaving the two guards unaware that the fire of hell was also shining in his irises. To concentrate on the control of his breathing, on the total immobility of his muscles, even those which should have been contracted by answer to the strikes... To ignore the unbearable burning sensation on his flesh... To wait for the pain to end.

 _I shall not move._

Should he show the slightest reaction, he would take the risk to get beaten up even more. The heat melted a part of the dermis, and began to diffuse into the underlying tissues. He clenched his teeth so hard that the muscles of his face went still.

 _ **I shall not move.**_

As the boiling metal was continuing its ruthless path on his flesh, sending a series of barbaric and disordered signals to his brain, Kenshin's mind began to wander. In the incoherent magma of his thoughts, the samurai was recalling the wise words of his master over and over again.

" _If you ever find yourself in a situation of inferiority, do not provoke your opponent. Wait, hidden in the shadows, the perfect opportunity to break through his defenses_. "

He was still too weak to attempt the slightest motion against his captors... To hang on silently until a more favorable chance to act where he would not be bound to certain death would be his only chance. This valuable learning of Hiten Mitsurugi had saved his life many times...

"It's nuts, he doesn't even react! Either he's unconscious or he's gone crazy!"

...There was only one problem with this strategy...

"I've never seen a guy stand that long..." the older one commented.

...it did nothing to appease the suffering.

For countless minutes the blows were raining uninterruptedly on him, the infernal sounds of the metal chains slamming on the ground alternating with the sickening smell of burnt flesh. And, again, that unfathomable pain that seemed to permeate him like a second skin. Even after the hits, the excruciating sensation was remaining in the same place, to the point where after a while he could no longer distinguish the different parts of his own body. Absolutely everything was hurting. The dull symphony as much as the nauseating scent of torture were floating relentlessly through the stale air of the small room, creating a ruthless mixture of dark emotions and dusky resentments that would defile the memory of the place for ages...

The more the slavers were tormenting his already-anemic organism, the more Kenshin was focusing on his unique reason for not giving up everything and letting himself go. The only one that was really valid in the end, the one that was worth for him to endure all the suffering of this world...

 _Kaoru... dono..._

Let them do what they want with his body... One cannot break the spirit of Kenshin Himura. He had known _worse_. A hundred times life had tried to break him, and a hundred times he had risen again. As long as his desire to live was intact, he would do everything in his power to survive.

The session, like the previous and the following ones, lasted an indefinite period of which he perceived each second with the length of one hour.

When they finally became tired of his lack of reaction, the two guards came out of the room in an unhealthy laugh. Kenshin vaguely recorded the heavy metallic slam of the door latch like a muffled sound in the background. With the same disturbing distance he had felt when he had heard the shouts of the tattooed man. The more time passed, the more he seemed to detach himself from his own body... to the point where sometimes, he was no longer certain to be still living inside. He remained an eternity collapsed on the hard ground, head semi-recessed in the concrete, eyelids stuck with blood having jutted from his skull wound, burnt skin hanging off in sheets like rags and flesh torn off. The fingernails of his left hand, shredded by the pressure he had put on it while clenching his fist, had traced dark wounds in his palm. The guards had not even bothered to tie his wrists to the wall again : in his condition, he would be unable to move for several hours. His jaw was so tense that he could not loosen it anymore, his head was buzzing in an unbearable cacophony and his chilled muscles were shaking uncontrollably... A distant part of him realized that his body was probably in shock.

Never mind.

The only thing he was sure of was that he had to get free. To break out of here, whatever the cost. As if alarmed by the pain that was flooding every nerve fiber of his being, obedient to an animal instinct, his body and mind had solely moved toward survival.

 _GET. AWAY._

Mute and deliberately blind since he had regained consciousness, Kenshin Himura would leave nothing to chance. He was listening to each sound and each conversation he could, smelled every fragrance and felt every movement, alerted himself at the slightest change he could perceive from his environment, all the while waiting to regain his strength. Attentive, to the slightest opportunity of escape...

* * *

Ten days. It had been ten days since they had last heard from Kenshin… and they knew he was at best hurt. Plus, what little they had seen of the sordid place where he had disappeared was nothing encouraging. The sombre omen that seemed to be hanging in the air of the factory had been enough to send shivers down their spines, and ruin their apetite for a few days at best...Whatever these traffickers were doing there was beyond the laws of human nature. Since that night, Saito had not returned to inform them yet, suggesting that his investigation had not progressed further. And the waiting was unbearable.

Hiko was almost never present and was spending the days scouring Tokyo and its surroundings, like a true bloodhound. He would come back at the dojo only to sleep, sometimes so late that they did not get to see him home at all. Kaoru suspected that he was staying there at night just to protect them -in case the invisible threat that had swallowed his deshi would turn on them. Such master, such disciple... He had never expressed his concern, but his behavior spoke for itself. The master was spending as less time with them as he could, most of it prostrated and lost in thought. Not that he was much of a talker anyway, but they had gotten used to hearing his regular caustic remarks. Never since they had met the wanderer had Hiko gotten involved so much in a matter that did not concern him directly, unless Kenshin asked him specifically to do so. The only exception to that was the return of Mount Hiei after the battle against Makoto Shishio, when he had stayed all night to watch over his disciple while the doctors were giving him first aid, lantern in hand above his unconscious body, his face closed. That night, Himura had not gone far from death.

"RaaAAAh !"

Leaning on her bamboo broom until the poor thing bent, Kaoru Kamiya released an animal grunt. She was giving her best to stay strong, not to crack under the pressure of unbearable worry, and Yahiko was doing his best to support her. They had tried to investigate on their own by every possible means, had even warned the Oniwabanshu of Kyoto who had immediately traveled down the warpath, but after several days and sleepless nights of unsuccessful searches, they had to face the facts : the traffickers knew perfectly how to erase their tracks. It was a job for the Tokyo police, and they were only slowing them down on their way. Worse, by their behavior they could alert the thugs about potential places of investigation and consequently make them flee even faster. Saito had made them understand that, with his usual lack of tact. The officer had nonetheless promised to keep them informed regarding the inquiry's progress, but they were remaining since then without any news, and their own helplessness was putting everyone's nerves under severe strain.

The heir of Kamiya Kasshin was therefore trying to trick her anxiety by cleaning for the tenth time the shining soil of her dojo, by carefully burning each dish she prepared, and by beating her faithful disciple with a magically-popping shinai at the slightest pretext -whom himself subsided his own by replying wholeheartedly on his master. Every second she was spending away from her beloved was another painful breath, every minute a new wound on her heart, every day an extra black cross on her calendar... Kaoru could no longer live, did get not any sleep, and only ate because her body was asking her. She was feeling deep inside of her the huge distress of the samurai, as if their two bodies had bit by bit been connected by the invisible lines of destiny... The sinister impression that her beloved's soul was gradually fading away from her just as from the world in which they lived in was no longer leaving her... and his mysterious disappearance was worrying Kaoru more than any other threat they had faced since she had met the wanderer. Of course, the samurai had already been involved in many dangerous cases in the past - that he had systematically tried to solve alone - and he had always been more or less happy about their issue... But she had the alarming impression that this time things would be different. Starting with the unbalanced behavior of the redhead since the beginning of this investigation. Then the impromptu arrival of his master, whose reason he had never explained. And then, at Saitama factory, she had found blood, his blood, and if there was nothing indicating that he was dead to this day... there was nothing indicating either that he was still alive.

Thus, after the frenzied frantic searches, the crises of anguish and the uncontrolled tears quickly followed by a brief discouragement, came the dreadful time of frustration.

"KUSO!"

Sanosuke punched the pillar against which he was leaning, almost shaking its foundations in the process. The former Sekihotai's wrath simply wouldn't cool down. He had discovered the scam on his way back from the Higashidani's home, and had gotten to work right away. Harassing relentlessly his contacts to the most sordid districts... But even in his dark networks, the child traffickers were not known. Drug dealers, yes, hawkers of all kinds, yes, leaders of adult prostitution -including men-, yes, but for the rest they were not playing those games. His own researches had thus all come to a dead end. However, more than anything, it was the fact of having been excluded from the visit of the traffickers' hideout that remained stuck in his throat like an ever-present fishbone.

"Stop taking your anger out on the wall of my dojo, you jerk!" Kaoru rubbed dust in her eyes, topped with huge dark circles.

"Kuso! Ya could've warned me that Kenshin had gotten into trouble! Should've come with ya to the factory!"

"I don't see what difference it would've made! Besides, Hiko left us no choice, he wanted to go straight to the police station... Excuse me for not having taken the time to send you a letter !"

"And what about those stupid cops, still haven't found anythin' on their own?!"

"Saito is on the move, and the man is as relentless as he is obstinate... if anyone can solve the case, it's him." She sighed, tired of always repeating this speech in which she herself only half-believed. "It seems like it's a huge traffic case, so they are already doing anything in their power to find their track..."

"You know this fuckin' wolf cannot be trusted! He's the first reason we're at this point!" He punched the innocent pillar again. "I always thought he was gonna drag Kenshin into a bad plan! I had _warned_ him!"

"Cut the comedy, Sanosuke! Do you really think it makes me happy too to be stuck here while Kenshin is in danger somewhere outside ?!"

"Hey, there's no use in fighting among ourselves..."

Yahiko took position between them, hands raised. He was struggling to keep his composure since the departure of Kenshin and had a hard time seeing the people he loved arguing about the disappearance of one of them. Even if he refused to admit it, he inwardly loved his master like a mother, the streetfighter like a brother, the samurai as a mentor... and the whole thing reminded him painfully of the same situation, a few months earlier, during the factitious death of the kendoka. At that moment, Sanosuke, furious, had finally left Tokyo, and Kenshin, destroyed, had buried himself at Rakuninmura. The young apprentice of the Kamiya Kasshin had thus remained the only one having kept his head on straights, despite the sadness caused by the loss of his master.

"…and designating a culprit will never help us find him back. Plus I'm sure the last thing Kenshin would like is us arguing because of him." he added, thoughtfully.

"...Yahiko? Since when are you able to reason like that?" his master cut aloud.

Kaoru could hardly believe it. Growing up, her disciple had become more and more pragmatic as well as full of common sense. While looking at him with pride, she was still sweeping an already clean section of the ground, bringing back only more dirt on the spot.

"It's about time you realize that, busu!" He then turned to the brawler to point the finger at him. "And you, Sanosuke, you always react by anger, but it rarely helps!"

"Shut your mouth, kid! I'm sick and tired of Kenshin keeping his problems for himself all the time and leaving us behind... I can't help if that pisses me off!"

The former Sekihotai thrust his hands furiously into his pockets, failing to have the right to destroy the dojo to take it out. He was unable to keep a cool head. His friend had unexpectedly disappeared, and there was nothing he could do to help him right away. Since his return from Shinano Province, Sanosuke was relentlessly turning the problem around in his head without finding the very beginning of a solution.

"...Can't believe we have to wait here 'til we have other tracks as to where these bastards are hidin'! K'SO!"

It goes without saying that no one, at the Kamiya dojo, could find rest.

* * *

Gathering what little strength he had recovered, Himura was concentrating. He could not accurately recall what had brought him in the first place to be held captive in this sordid room whose damp walls smelled of putrescence and hatred, but he knew he had to escape from here at all costs. Head hanging down, hair messily falling on a cadaverous and dirty face, his brain was on the other hand fully alerted. Relentlessly, he was analyzing each information available, with as much precision as his head could remember, stunned by a pain that was permanently irradiating through it and whose origin was unknown to him.

The guards were coming to feed him twice a day. At the first sun rays of the sun, and when the heat of it could almost no longer be felt. For the occasion his hands were detached from the metal wall but still joined together. Tired of waiting for their prisoner to eat without ever seeing him move, they had finally decided to leave the bowl in front of him and to tie up his wrists over his head again only in the evening when they were coming back to recover the food. As soon as he knew they were gone and had managed to regain sufficient consciousness, Kenshin forced himself to swallow the sticky substance with his only valid hand, methodically taking back what he was vomiting thanks to the ruthless nausea... determined to regain strength no matter what it takes. By doing so, he had gradually recovered enough energy to judge his surroundings, to feel weakly the kis that were close to his, even maybe to be able to stand up when the opportunity would arise. Himura was an intuitively intelligent man, with an animal knowledge of the laws of war and a solid experience of extreme situations... Even reduced to a minimum, keeping a prisoner like him could be a formidable two-edged sword.

 _Stay focused..._

They were two during day outside his door, only one at night. He could feel a third one that was sometimes passing nearby, at a steady pace. Probably a guard who was doing his rounds in the area. What was after the corridor, behind his door... he had no idea. If he could free himself, he would have to improvise, to melt in the shadows... or say goodbye to his sad existence. Because, a fight in his condition would be...

* Click *

The sound of a key turning in the latch of his door. A guard. Only one. The bowl placed about ten centimeters from him. The man tells him something, but he does not understand what. He keeps his eyes closed, holds his body perfectly still. His breathing blocked. The individual gets closer, catches his wrists ...

 _Now !_

Ignoring the pain that was running through him, he threw the iron bowl with a violent kick of his knee. The object came crashing down the trafficker's face, who stifled a cry of shock. Taking advantage of the element of surprise, Kenshin straightened his bust with a brisk gesture and brought his tied hands around his neck, clasping it immediately with the rope that was holding him.

"MgARgllhh..."

The assassin's grip was as dexterous as he was desperate, crushing Mashiro's throat with all the energy he had left. He released his embrace only when the man's two limp arms came dangling lifelessly at his side, his massive body falling on the redhead. Suddenly crushed by the unconscious weight leaning on his own emaciated form, Kenshin remained on the ground for a few seconds to catch his breath before rolling to the side to disengage himself. He then grabbed the dagger at the guard's belt with his teeth and pulled it off its sheath. All the while firmly holding the newly acquired weapon in his mouth, he raised his wrists and began to file the rope that hindered them as fast as he could by using a regular back and forth movement, before doing the same with his feet once his hands were released. Finally free of any ties, he stood up without losing a second... and the world around him began to swirl violently.

 _Not... yet...!_

Kenshin struggled desperately against the dizziness and pounding in his head, waiting in a semi-sitting position for his environment to stabilize, fist and teeth clenched. In his confusion he had decided to steal his keeper's dagger... knowing he could probably not use it in an optimal manner. Indeed, there was no way he could move the arm or any of his fingers on his right side, which left him only the other hand to use a weapon. He was far from ambidextrous, but his master had nonetheless taught him to fight with as many parts of his body as necessary, and the fierce spiral of Bakumatsu just as the recent Meiji era fights had given him the opportunity to test this theory... While thinking about all he could use or not in case of confrontation, Kenshin realized that his injured shoulder had been bandaged, although roughly. Not to put it back into a correct position or to lessen the pain, but probably to stop a bleeding. His skull too, using the same approximate method... And he did not have the slightest memory of these moments. Brutally realizing that a part of the events had obviously escaped his perception, Himura felt his anxiety rise.

 _...How many things ...forgotten?_

He knew he would not have a second chance. Not in his condition. He was still awkwardly palpating the newly discovered bandages when footsteps were heard in the distance. Probably the man who was doing a round.

 _Hurry... must hurry!_

Alerted by the irrepressible instinct to flee, he rushed like an animal to the doorway of the small room where he was held captive. He looked to the east, to the west, narrowed his eyes... _no one_. No way to feel a ki more than a few meters away from him with the hell that was drumming in his head. Running or jumping would certainly mean fainting. And to add to the confusion, he had the impression that his visual field had considerably reduced, especially on the outer edges. Probably another consequence of the blows he had received on the skull.

 _No choice..._

Sliding his slender body into semi-darkness, he crawled along the walls, making his movements almost imperceptible. Even disabled, the experienced samurai was able to blend intuitively into the night scenery with the chilling grace of a ghostly figure... the way of life of the cold and ruthless assassin he had been, returning to him as naturally as the blood flowed in his veins. Kenshin had been living like this for so many years, risking death at every moment, that he still had a hard time adapting his reflexes born from a life of struggle to the peaceful customs of a warless era...

Arrived at an intersection between two alleys surrounded by this same sheet of dull colors, he decided to turn to the west, without certainty as to his destination. He had no knowledge of building's plan and could therefore only rely on his five senses. Having guessed that he was close to the sea, he chose to follow by default what would bring him closer to it, hoping to find by this way a backdoor leading outside to escape... It was a thin hope, and he had to bet on it. But as he was walking since only a few minutes, the previous footsteps were heard again. They were echoing throughout the metal corridors, and it took his mindless brain several seconds to understand that they were coming from the precise direction in which he had engaged himself. The samurai turned back as fast as he could. On his trail, he heard another person yelling in the distance - probably an alert for having found his kidnapper stunned in his cell. He then took the second junction, barely lit by lanterns arranged irregularly on the wall, pushing on his lacerated legs to put as much distance as possible between him and the two strangers.

Semi-immersed in the cold darkness, the samurai was touching the ground to find clues about his location, sniffing the air in search of odors that could inform him, casting his eyes everywhere so as not to miss anything of what was surrounding him. He seemed to walk an eternity in the damp night. The hallways all looked the same aspect, the same texture. All the doors he met were locked up tight. Worse, his strength was gradually dwindling and soon his head began to spin again. His vision, finally, ended up also getting blurred.

 _No!_

Fainting in the hallway would certainly be rewarded of a death sentence. He took a few more staggering steps, before noticing on his left not far from him a small half-open room.

 _Hide..._

Quickly analyzing the space and the furniture inside, he crawled under a large desk, about twenty centimeters high, clenching his teeth when his shoulder came into abrupt contact with the ground. The spot was dusty, barely big enough to contain a body of his morphology, but enough to hide him in the twilight. Curled up on a minimum of space, he forced his breathing to calm and his heart rate to normalize. Unless someone looked specifically under the desk it was impossible to distinguish the redhead buried underneath. All he had to do was remain silent, until the nausea faded enough for him to start walking again...

While he was struggling against the stubborn headache and his flickering conscience, he heard once again the footsteps he had perceived earlier, this time getting dangerously close to his location. But instead of walking straight down the hall, the man inexplicably turned back to enter the small, dead room where he was hiding... as if something had led him directly to this place.

 _W... Why?_

On the hands that were desperately wrapping his head, Kenshin felt a hot liquid run.

 _ **The blood.**_

From the wound of his skull was flowing drop by drop, a crimson fluid, the same color as his hair.

 _I haven't seen..._

The weight of his exhaustion fell on him like a thunderclap.

 _...the traces of blood ...I was leaving behind me ..._

The desk above him was suddenly raised.

"HE'S THERE!"

A flash of light blinded him, followed by the howl that whirred in his ears, echoing endlessly down his head. He vaguely recognized the thug who was guarding his cell, and had a brief moment of relief in noting that he had not killed the man by strangling him.

 _Act, before him!_

As a last resort, Kenshin used the only thing that was still rightly working in his body... his legs. He threw them forward with an impulse of the hips, forcing the man on the ground with the power of his thighs. The result was a hand-to-hand fight, where both were trying to gain the upper hand by rolling chaotically on the hard surface, the wanderer's energy being increased tenfold by this sudden discharge of adrenaline. Himura knew that since the man's weight was much bigger than his, his only chance of victory would be to turn the adversary's strength against himself. He thus grabbed the first knuckle that came to hand and gave his opponent a skilled shoulder wrench. Unfortunately, this movement allowed him to release his other arm and try to smother the redhead in turn with his elbow.

*MrGHhh*

The wanderer, suddenly panicked at being deprived of air, bit with full tooth into the flesh that was compressing his face. In a barbaric gesture, he tore the tissues of the thug to the tendon with the forceful pressure of his jaw. Mashiro raised his limb, screaming, hemoglobin dripping from his forearm to the mouth of the amber-eyed former Ishin Shishi who immediately spat the piece of flesh on the ground. Taking advantage of this moment of respite, Kenshin grabbed with his left hand the dagger he had stolen and planted it in his shoulder, all the while pivoting his body over his. The man screamed again in pain as the blade crossed dryly through his collarbone to slot itself in the floor, before loosing consciousness.

"You again?" roared Hirono. "I won't miss you twice!"

He had not risen yet when a second person entered the room and immediately turned his gun on him. While crushing his body down on the ground, Kenshin kicked with lightspeed the desk by his side, which received the first projectile. Before the thug could press back on the trigger, the former Ishin Shishi had thrown him a chair within arm's reach that came banging loudly on his head. He then coldly grabbed the remains of the furniture, smashed it a second time against the wall to recover one of the wooden feet and attacked with it the individual who was already recovering. A dry knock on the back of the neck, and he heard a bone break. The second thug fell to the floor in a distorted gurgling sound.

"This way, come on !"

Other men followed immediately, alerted by the noise generated by the scuffle. Impossible to estimate their number in this half-light, and they were obstructing the access to the only door of the room. He was trapped.

* PAM *

Another shot thundered, that he blocked at the very last second with the short stick, the violent reverberation of the shock in his wrist causing him to let go of the improvised weapon which was projected at the corner of the room, broken to pieces. Whatever... Himura threw himself on them. The primitive instinct of the samurai, spontaneously taking over any other sensation.

Armed with his only left arm and two legs, the former assassin whose body had suddenly become fully alert was fighting like a berserker, dodging the impacts with his innate rapidity, running briefly against the walls by leaning on his dexterous feet, bouncing on the unconscious bodies with his powerful thighs, striking without interruption with his fist and elbow those who crossed his path. The thud of cracking bones was echoing relentlessly inside of the isolated building. He put a man down. Two, three. Others. Had he killed them in his haste? Were they still conscious? He had no idea. His body was maneuvering alone, leaving his brain just enough momentum to make it work. An entire existence of living by martial arts had sharpened the least of his reflexes, modeling precisely the machinery of his muscles and nerves for battle. Since his birth, he had risked his life more than once, had grazed death many times, and had delivered it much more.

As the night was at its peak, blood, sweat, and muffled cries were filling the air of the shed. Deep inside him, a little voice was screaming, but he could not hear it anymore.

As the minutes went by, more and more people kept arriving, but Kenshin Himura was still fighting with the energy of despair. The unique disciple of the Hiten Mitsurugi was giving all that was left of his stamina, violating the laws of his own body, determined to abandon nothing. He wanted to go back to the dojo where his home was, next to his family, next to the one he loved... to the point of being able live through the darkest tortures. While he was burning his last supplies of strength, the redhead with cruciform scar had only one picture in mind.

 _Kaoru-dono...Kaoru-dono...Kaoru!_

And, as a last resort...

...they would not take him alive. He would not serve as a bargaining chip for a child prostitution ring. He would not fall back into the hands of those sick men. **Not alive.**

Realizing that he would not have the upper hand on the overwhelming number of opponents in his condition, Himura took advantage of a tiny opening to escape into the hallway. He ran straight ahead, ignoring the nausea and the alarming signals that his organism was sending him. The ability of the former Ishin Shishi to go beyond the limits of his own body was terrifying. He split the air as fast as he could, as far as he could, following the smell of the sea and the sound of the waves. He fell and got up as many times, hitting alternately one side and the other of the corridors that were all alike, struggling to keep his balance.

At the end of a race that seemed endless, he finally reached a metal door which, unlike the others, was not closed. The disgusting salty scent was stronger here, as was the noise of water crashing against the structure. With a little luck, it would look out on the cliff, then on the sea. He was not sure to be able to swim in the swirl of the coastal currents with an unusable arm, several fractured ribs, a disoriented brain, open bleeding wounds and so few energy... But if he could sink into the cold water long enough to make them believe he was gone, then he had a tiny chance to escape. Behind him, the footsteps were approaching inevitably. In the worst case, he would die drowned and would not serve as a hostage for slave traffickers...

Himura pushed with all his strength the little iron door...

...behind which were the rusty containers placed on the dirty concrete floor, surrounded by the narrow walls covered with fungal colonies... of his cell.

In his haste, Kenshin had gone around in circles.

" _...drug him_!"

While the realization was cruelly anchoring in his mind, a distant but distinct voice was heard.

" _With this dose, he should be intoxicated for a while... And if it's not enough to keep him calm, we'll throw his body into Tokyo Bay_!"

He knew that voice.

 _The tattooed man..._

A detonation. A rifle, larger, wider than those he knew, which resembled the one people used to numb animals. And almost simultaneously, a sharp pain in the back.

 _...a needle?_

Himura fell to his knees, deprived of sensations in his legs.

His arms began to shake.

 _ **NO !**_

His vision, to cover itself of an opaque veil.

 _ **NO !**_

And the pitiless arms of those thick black clouds, to envelop him again.

* * *

"...when will it be over, this little cat-and-mouse game?"

Saito was getting tired of chasing after them. This was the third time the police visited a suspected hideout and found it empty of its occupants. The difference with the previous interventions, however, is that there was many more abandoned equipment, loose furniture and poorly covered passageways. Concrete proofs of a hasty departure.

 _This time again, we've just missed them... We're getting nearer and nearer._

It wasn't worth mentioning to Kamiya and her cronies that they were again this close from finding the traffickers. That would only make their situation worse, and it would objectively be a waste of time. Subjectively, it was a different matter, but that was certainly not the responsibility of the officer. Saito had therefore decided to keep them informed only in case of safe track.

 _I just hope that Battosai won't be too messed up when we find him... if he's still alive._

He wasn't feeling guilty for having sent him on this mission; Himura was a grown man perfectly able to make decisions and manage on his own. Moreover, he was the one who had insisted on leaving before he had time to gather a backup team. More stubborn than a mule, as usual. And then, according to the officer's information, the abandoned factory at Saitama was supposed to be just a crossing point - not their main base.

 _Then what the heck did he do?_

It is true that he had not seemed in a good shape right before leaving, but to the point of being captured, or even killed...? Anyway, the fact that they had still not found any corpse was rather reassuring. Or simply a sign that the body had been thrown into the sea or inside some worthless pit for more discretion. Nonetheless, the idea that they had to leave their hiding places in a hurry was reducing this possibility.

The former Shinsengumi collected all the papers, unusual objects and other clothes he could find, in order to analyze them calmly in his office later. He scoured the hideout from top to bottom, allowing nothing to escape his stubborn gaze.

 _By dint of going at full speed, they will without doubt end up making a mistake..._

When the wolf has smelled its prey, hunting is only a matter of time. What he still ignored, however, was how long Kenshin had...

* * *

 _ **Next chapter :**_ Darkest memories

* * *

 **A / N: As you know, I need to lengthen the time between updates in order to maintain the quality (unless you want a horrible google translation hahaha). Don't worry I won't forget the story though!**


	16. Darkest memories

**A/N:**

 **Thank you for all of your reviews !** I was scolding myself lately, thinking « the waiting was too long, it's no use updating this » (blame my patients for giving me so much work these last months that I was literally too tired to do anything back home *_*+), then I've reread your comments and... took my pen again ! You are my lights in the writing of this story, the reason why I put my energy in going on building a Ruroken fanfiction (that and my huge fangirl spirit, hahaha)... Don't hesitate to reread the previous chapters to remind the plot ! ;)

I must warn you of the presence of a violence scene in this chapter ( **signaled by** **[*]** ), I therefore apologize for sensitive souls (please skip the said paragraph), but this point is important for the upcoming scenario. For those who would be worried about the more scary / dark tone of the last chapters, give it time, this story is meant to be long! ;)

 _ **Lexicon:**_

Onigiri: triangular rice dumpling coated with a nori leaf (algae)

Fundoshi : traditional japanese male underwear

* * *

 _ **Chapter 16:**_ Darkest memories

* * *

He was waking up and falling back asleep endlessly. The days... or the nights perhaps, had become a succession of blurred images, of distorted and ugly sounds, of incoherent and unhealthy perceptions. Before each sleep phase, a sharp sensation against his skin. At each awakening, another delusional illusion inside which his mind was drowning indefinitely. He did not know his name anymore, nor did he remember why he was here. None of his thoughts seemed to make sense. He had lost the notion of time, that of the limits of his own body, just like the path that led to the meander of his memory... The repeated injections of drug had done their job, saturating his synapses to the point of intoxicating permanently his central nervous system.

"...h _ **He**_ y..."

Lying on the ground, muscles completely lethargic, brain so poisoned that he no longer offered any reaction to the outside world, Kenshin Himura saw flashing before his eyes a universe with which he was unable to interact.

".. **.hhe** a _Rr_ _ **M**_ **e**?"

Even more disturbing, was the fact that he no longer felt the need or the desire to concentrate or even to try to understand what was around him. The present he perceived was like a distant memory, of which only the futile sense of the unreal remained.

".. **.oV** _ **E**_ **R** _ **d**_ ose..."

Since an indefinite moment roughly shaped forms were moving before him.

"...dD _ie_ s... da **n** _ **GE**_ **Rous**..."

Their voices, sometimes distant and sometimes close, seemed distorted and amorphous.

"... **aL** _ **LoN**_ **e** , tH _IRT_ _ **t**_ **y M** En dO _WN_..."

Sometimes high-pitched, sometimes low.

"... _baR_ E HA **nd..**."

They were tangling with each other to form nothing but a blurred stream, at the surface of which a few words sometimes escaped.

" _...P_ _ **OLI**_ _ce..._ "

Who they belonged to or what they might try to say did not matter. Soon he would have forgotten them too...

* * *

Kaoru, lost in thoughts, brought the onigiri for the third time to her mouth. She had successively carried the piece of rice to her lips before resting it on the plate at her side without having touched it. Her face had widened with dark circles, and her usually tight-fitting outfit was neglected. It had been a week since she had lost any appetite for food.

 _Kenshin..._

The disappearance of the former patriot on the other hand had occurred almost a month ago now. Time had since elapsed with the pernicious slowness of the days when the absence of a loved one stops everything on the spot before his departure, and the nerve-wracking speed of the moments during which every minute spent would compromise a little more the promise of a return.

Saito kept repeating that he was not far from reaching his goal, Hiko was looking for his disciple day and night while shutting himself away in an intimidating silence, and the Oniwabanshu of Kyoto had drowned a blank in their investigations. Needless to say that Sanosuke was literally running mad with rage... Not knowing what happened to a missing person can sometimes be the cruelest situation, for it deprives the relatives of the bitter relief of mourning. This is why, some nights when ignoring would become unbearable, it happened to the young kendoka to secretly wish for the news of his decease. Right after, she would grow sick with shame and self-loathing for this simple thought, but... _wasn't death a better fate than to be suffering unfathomable tortures ?_ From what little she had seen into the slave traders' den, these men did not follow the same rules as civilized society, and the horror she had felt there was unlike anything she had ever experienced. Just remembering the appalling visit to the factory in Saitama was enough to tie knots in her stomach... And her fertile imagination was now filling her dreams with unspeakable scenes.

 _I just hope... just hope he's okay... that he didn't die of his head wound, or worse..._

She could not help but picturing the samurai rotting in the back of a sordid cell, suffering from a nasty cranial injury. Of course, Himura had much better battle and survival abilities than most people, which could give them hope for a miraculous safe return… but in the end, he remained a mere human being. At least, Megumi had taught her that. Each fight had weakened him a little more, and each time Kaoru had been at the forefront to witness the damage done on both his body and mind.

 _What are they doing to him back there ? Why keeping him captive ? What can they want from him ?_

She was hopelessly studying the same questions in her mind, like trapped in a waking nightmare. She could feel deep inside herself that he was still alive, but was fairly beginning to doubt that it was better this way…

 _...Why him, again?_

By dint of being manipulated, the rice dumpling broke up on the ends of her chopsticks.

 _And why does all this happen to us NOW?_

Yahiko walked past her, practicing his kata with diligence as he did every morning, but his master remained blind to his existence. In her present, her eyes were turned to another one with whom she had imagined a future, and whose memory now threatened to belong to the past.

 _...what should I do?_

Reluctantly, she swallowed a piece of the onigiri. Whether she likes it or not, in order to maintain her body she had to sustain her natural needs.

Her beloved, wherever he was, might not have that chance.

* * *

"...at?"

The plea was insistent.

"...eat?"

This demand, constantly repeated, finally seemed important to him. He forced himself to open his eyelids. Behind the blinding light, someone or something was staring at him. Gradually, he connected the disturbing vision with the noise he heard for some time, pulling him out of his narcosis. He tried desperately to open his mouth to respond to the shape in front of him, but on the corner of his lips flowed only a trickle of drool.

"...Can you eat?"

Once again, the redhead forced on his vocal cords, pushing the saliva to gather in a viscous pile on the ground. A single raspy sound, almost inaudible, escaped his hoarse throat. A sound that his interlocutor seemingly did not perceive.

"EAT, for fuck's sake!"

"Uunghrl ..."

The gruel was forced into his mouth, but the still amorphous muscles of his jaw refused to close on it. Despite his desperate efforts to chew the inconsistent piece, neither his mandibles nor his glottis agreed to move. His head was also tilting roughly to the side for lack of strength to keep it straight. The formidable substance crippled his muscles even several hours after the last injection.

"GHh"

The humanoid-like thing pressed his chin vigorously to induce mastication, but the stuck grains of rice just dripped out of his immobile lips to finally fell on the ground and over the guard's feet, joining the heap of saliva that had previously formed there. Kenshin was unable to treat food by himself, barely swallowing what was forced into his throat. Several times he nearly choked for not being able to move his tongue. To make matters worse, his brain kept on forgetting what he was doing at this time, and he had to struggle every second to remember what he was doing the previous one. This moment seemed to last an eternity to him.

"...this state ...nO rANSom!"

The shapes before him ended up losing patience. Other hands were manipulating his body. He felt his face being lift, his hair pulled back. Something was very close from him. Unintelligible cries followed, while his head was projected in every direction, still gripped by his red mane. Strangely, under his eyes were now stirring up frightful carps, endlessly chased by white and gray chrysanthemums. Nothing he saw made sense.

Nonetheless, among the mess of unknown sensations that were storming inside of his body, one more familiar than the others was slowly but surely working its way towards his conscience. One whose every fiber of his being remembered more than his own name...

... **The pain**.

Blows in his stomach, on his arms, over his legs. Blows that sing like rain, that cry as one implores the departed at dawn, blows that smell of the sake he drank during Bakumatsu's moonless nights. And this atrocious burning sensation. Abhorrent fire all over his body, ravaging his tissues. Was he back in Kyoto, still fighting against his alter ego the mad Makoto Shishio? He was constantly wondering if what he was feeling was real, or if it was another result of his hallucinations. He had no idea if this situation was normal or not, whether it was lasting since forever or even if it was actually really happening. None of the information that came to him was coherent.

The only thing he was sure of was that it _hurt_. Everywhere, all the time. Without understanding why all this was happening to him, nor when this hellish cycle had begun.

Slumber, awakening, suffering.

Over and over.

Finally, this sharp thing against his skin again. He felt a relief, as if his body had been eagerly waiting for it. His vision became triple, then blurred, then completely dark.

At least, when he was sleeping, the pain would disappear.

* * *

Saito was literally bubbling. Since the disappearance of Himura, the case had become a matter of urgency. People were all over him, and he was self-imposing a sort of pressure that did not resemble him. The former Shinsengumi was demanding, pugnacious, perfectionist, but certainly not stressed. To top it off, all the excavations they had carried out since the Saitama factory inspection had brought nothing conclusive.

 _We are inevitably missing something ..._

Thus he undertook to peel, group and classify the boring papers one more time, stacking the maps one above the other, crossing the information coming from different sectors of the country. In doing so, he put his hand back on a worn out and yellowed sheet sent some time ago by Kyoto's police force, apparently recovered by the Oniwabanshu in an old hideout, and which revealed a series of transactions without any sense.

 _Probably still coded transmissions... Damn ..._

After several days of work on these abject data, his boiling brain was about to explode. He was sick and tired of all these meaningless numbers. Especially the 41.

 _...The 41?_

He got his hand back on the binder where he had gathered every communication intercepted between suspect groups.

 _41... 41... I've seen this number on many files,_ _almost always on what looks like nautical location data..._ _It can't be just a coincidence..._

He closed his eyes. The sound of a damn seagull in the background was giving him headaches, preventing him from thinking straight.

"The 41... OF COURSE !"

He screamed so loud that the assistant standing in the adjacent office nearly fell from his chair. Working with the tyrannical Goro Fujita was very bad for the heart rate.

"This number stands for a dock… a dock at Yokohama harbor !"

"Huh...?" his teammate, who had rushed in the room, gave him an incredulous look.

"It's the only one that has enough sheds to rise until such a number, and a perfect place to land illegal goods from abroad!"

 _How could I miss it ?!_ He swore inwardly. _Himura might be dead by now!_

"Hirotaka, get the whole team together ! There's no time to lose!"

* * *

The key turned in the lock again, but he paid no attention to the foreign sound. He could not take it anymore. The drugs had overcome his nervous system making him barely able to see the light in front of him. Nevertheless, with each injection, he would sink a little less time in unconsciousness. Bit by bit his body seemed to develop a kind of tolerance.

"...ya finally got your head above water?" spat the slaver, hands on his hips, watching the two haggard amethyst eyes that focused briefly on him. "It's about time!"

Kenshin remained lifeless. His foggy brain could hardly register what was happening.

"Remember me?" continued the man, turning his filthy mass around the prisoner. "My name's Mashiro... ya've strangled me _twice_ before stickin' me with my dagger!"

The slaver glanced quickly at his comrade, immediately followed by the heavy grinding of a door closing behind him.

"Since ya're here I've had nothin' but trouble..."

He showed successively his shoulder covered with bandages, his neck riddled with purplish marks.

"First, the boss gives us a fuckin' guard job, and now 'cause of ya I can barely move my right arm an' it hurts like hell every time I swallow..." He finished his sentence with a long, partially toothless grin "... _I got a bone to pick with ya_!"

The former Ishin Shishi, as for him, vaguely acknowledged the fuss in his cell through fragmented vision and erratic hearing. His head was falling on his laps and he had trouble simply raising his gaze.

"Don't worry, Mashiro is much sweeter than the boss..." Genji added, fingertipping the ocher hair. "It's been over a week that he's waitin' for ya to wake up."

As an answer his colleague uttered a long sneer. They had done it so many times with their young merchandise; this new booty felt like an exotic flavor for them...

"Check out his fiery mane and delicate mug... I wonder what use the other Choshu patriots could have done of that babe at night..."

A feminine face. A slender body. Rich color of eyes and hair that would have made jealous inhabitants of the red light district. Kenshin Himura's features, although remarkably handsome, had never brought him anything but woe.

"'...I bet you were Katsura Kogoro's favorite, huh ?"

Again this cruel smile, which crossed his distorted face from side to side.

"A beautiful redhead like that, 'would be a shame to waste him!"

While the merciless lines of fate were about to cross again, Kenshin did not move a muscle. If his half-comatose state was enough to witness his environment, he was unable to interpret the information that were reaching him, let alone react to them. Body on the verge of breakdown, mind already dead inside. The rest went on like a nightmare ... **[*]**

Mashiro stripped off his bonds and then lifted the lethargic body fallen on the floor, handling his limbs as he would have done with a doll or a scarecrow. Unable to show the slightest reaction, their victim only let out an inaudible, strangled moan. The two thugs kept him standing, straight as an arrow against the muddy wall, as they started their dirty business.

"Hold him still Genji, I'm sure we're gonna have fun ..."

Without further ado the portly slaver crashed into the back of his prisoner, hugging his frail, emaciated figure with his rude shape. Relishing the feeling of domination, he then began to push his body against his in a heavy motion, all the while sniffing a handful of red hair he had just pulled off their lace. His colleague, who wasn't missing a thing of the scene in the background, had that same lustful and starving gaze.

 _It's... t-the d-drugs ...?_

As Mashiro was gasping with excitation behind the face of his prey, a tiny bell rang into the former Ishin Shishi's consciousness. Something... _someone_ was so close that he could feel the slightest relief of his anatomy right against him.

Foul breath and mouth stuck to his ear, his assailant whispered him the following words...

"I'm gonna make ya pay the bill my way, sweetheart..."

Eager to carry out his point, the slaver took away in a single gesture what little clothes remained on his victim, revealing his naked body, purplish with the stigmata of their repeated abuses, to the humid atmosphere of the room... Completely at the sight of the two criminals, who began to laugh in an obscene cacophony. The lugubrious sound resounding on the metal walls mixed with the cold contact of air on his skin caused the samurai to shudder. Little by little, his blurred vision was focusing.

 _...Am I ...s-still ...d-delirious ...?_

All the while crushing him against the oozing wall, the slaver took pleasure in exploring his prey with the same ferocious appetite that had led him to get involved in this network of child prostitution. He would sully of crude touch absolutely all his fingers met, scratching his skin with gray and twisted nails, nibbling and slobbering it as he traced a humid path of his lips, rubbing on him the body juices that were dripping between his greasy folds...

Kenshin gritted his teeth.

 _These hands ..._

...Were those filthy hands _touching_ him?

When Mashiro finally ran steady fingers on the pelvis and between the legs of his prey, the abnormal feeling that seized the former Ishin Shishi was as dreadful as it was sordid. His body, gradually gained by a visceral horror, instinctively tried to get back in motion. He was still not able to struggle, but could now move the knuckles slightly.

 _I'm gonna... w-wake up... ?_

The treatment he was subjected to had at least one beneficial impact : his metabolism, slowly but surely, was coming back to life...

"Ya 're gonna regret havin' ever tried to escape me, _bitch_."

And his brain... too.

 _He's about to..._

Without breaking contact, the slaver stuck behind his back eagerly untied the knots of his fundoshi and lowered himself to take position below his pelvis. It's only when they were skin to skin that the comprehension truly anchored in Kenshin's mind.

 _ **N-O-**_

Before he had the slightest chance to react, Mashiro pushed on his hips. At the very moment when he profaned what was intimate, the pain printed in the earliest memory of the samurai resurfaced in an overwhelming tidal of disgust and violence.

 _My body..._

He had already been through that.

This flood of abject back and forth moves that skimmed in him like the brackish waves crashing rhythmically on the walls of his cell. And this raw, concrete ache. Humiliating. Familiar.

 _...a mere piece of flesh ..._

The blood that buzzed painfully in his temples joined the tumult of the screams of his attackers, the scent of bodily secretions in his nostrils masked that of the heave in his own throat, the pulsating pain in his lower abdomen matched the nightmarish vision of his pupils... While a hell of another era was burning anew in his body, reviving the flame of his darkest memories, Himura Kenshin was becoming once again the slave Shinta had been... He felt nothing else but that, heard no more than that, was once again only this nameless being that one treated with less decency than an animal.

 _...nothing but a piece of flesh..._

As lewd grunts echoed through the stale air of the cell, every invasive gesture was once again imprinted in the memory of his body, vandalizing with impunity the depths of his already ravaged inner self, blaspheming in the cruelest way the very essence of his being. Worse, this impure feeling had the unbearable aftertaste of an ordeal he had already gone through nearly twenty years ago...

 _How could these things still happen?_ Was he not a grown man? Was he not a gifted swordsman, since long able to defend himself...?

He did not care about his own body. As far as he could remember, he no longer considered himself as a human being after the vicissitudes of his life. But _this_... this was bringing him back to the helpless child he had been, to what the children gathered here should undergo _now_ , under the Meiji era he had fought so hard to build, right under _his eyes_ , right behind _these walls_...

… _ **How on earth could these things still happen?!**_

From the abyssal meanders of his consciousness began to rise a colorless, blind and deaf rage. More obscene yet than the scene that was unfolding before his eyes. A primitive anger, caulked in the darkest recesses of his soul since his very first years of life...

At another time, in a remote place, a young boy in his heart had promised himself never to let such horror happen anew.

 _ **Never Again.**_

" **GO AHEAD.** "

A hoarse, cavernous voice interrupted the slaver.

"Huh? ...he's speaking?"

Mashiro did not understand the meaning of his prisoner's words, still obviously paralyzed by drugs.

"D'ya like it?" continued the slaver, exhibiting an orgiastic smile before resuming his obscene work.

" **PUSH... ME. FURTHER.** " blurted the assassin. Between his clenched jaws, Battosai was biting his tongue and tasted his own blood.

Mashiro did not feel the danger coldly entwined in his voice. Neither did he see the two amber eyes gleaming with cruelty between the thin slits of his eyelids. On the contrary, he continued his ritual unscrupulously, sharing in turn the odious feast with his comrade, slowing his ruthless pace only to emit a cacophony of guttural sounds, erratic breaths whistling between the interstices of his yellowed teeth, mingled with the sickening smell of his own sweat ...

 **[*]**

The more the macabre dance was played, violating mercilessly the sacred laws of his body, the more the mad violence locked in the depths of his soul was coming back to life. The blood in his veins, the dopamine in his neurons, the adrenaline in his muscles...

...Somewhere at the bottom of a seedy cell in Yokohama harbor, Kenshin Himura lost it.

* * *

 _ **Next chapter :**_ The hangar n°41

* * *

 **A/N :** Believe me, this chapter was also hard to write... Our rescue team is finally arriving, hang-on !

 _ **LAST-MINUTE NOTE :**_ OMG I've finally reread the first chapters and... _the english was awful_! I'm stricken with shame, how could you even read that ? *ToT* You guys are angels... thank you so much for supporting my poor level in this language ! As I have improved my translation ability (at least in the recent chapters), I've made a **MASSIVE UPDATE of chapters** **1 and 2** -for now, others will probably follow if my strength ever come back- (yes, this is one of the reasons why this chapter was so late, the other is that I've had way to much work IRL this summer, ughhh), **so please** **care** **to discover them anew**.


	17. The hangar No 41

_**A/N :**_

Haaaa *evade flames*, yes, I agree, the previous chapter was probably the hardest ; I've tried to update as fast as I could so as not to leave you on that point !

 _ **Lexicon :**_

-Ahou : fool

-Yokai : "spirit", "ghost", "demon", "strange apparition", supernatural creature of Japanese folklore.

-Oni : a humanoid demon with a hideous appearance, often depicted with a red or blue skin, a gigantic stature, sharp claws, two protruding horns on their foreheads, and ruffled hairs. Equivalent to ogre or troll of Western culture.

-Yamero : stop

* * *

 _ **Chapter 17 :**_ The hangar No.41

* * *

The rain was impregnating the usually salty scent of the harbor waters, infiltrating their clothes to slip on their skin, drumming endlessly on the wooden structures of the wharves. Mastering their protocols at their fingertips, the police agents were cautiously advancing along the docks, searching for the famous hangar number 41 in the middle of a damp sheet-like forest.

"...What a pain ! Can't we move faster ?"

A frankly gloomy landscape, in addition currently roughed up nature forces. No way to light a cigarette in these conditions. The mood of famous Goro Fujita, if not good, was awful.

"Just stop complaining for a second. In case you haven't noticed, mist and setting sun aren't exactly helping the visibility here..."

"That's your job, not mine !"

"One more word and your head flies, rooster-face."

It has been almost half an hour since the carts of the security forces had parked loudly at the entrance of the quays of Yokohama's port, to the great displeasure of Saito who had previously given the instruction of an arrival as discreet as possible. No less than thirty agents were mobilized in a hurry, as well as the young owner of the Kamiya dojo who had been warned of the investigation's progress as soon as the slavers' den was found. She had landed in the aftermath at the headquarters accompanied by her crew ; the street-brawler that annoyed the officer so much along with the arrogant thirteenth master of Hiten Mitsurugi. Only Yahiko Myojin had been left behind, considered too young to witness a police intervention of such caliber. Thank God.

"How long are we goin' to search like that? I thought the cops had found their stash for good !"

Sanosuke squeezed his frozen fists into his pockets, which paradoxically were burning with impatience to meet the alleged child traffickers. Rarely in his life had he wanted to break teeth this much, and considering his stubborn reputation as a street fighter, it was - needless to say - an euphemism.

"If you think you can do better alone in this muck, you are free to go ahead by yourself. I'm not holding you back."

"Ksss..."

In fact, the former Sekihotai had already tried twice to overtake the policemen, each time loosing his way a little more, and after having inadvertently nearly fallen straight into the sea, he had abandoned this idea and resigned himself to deal with the company of autority forces. Kaoru was following them obediently, worried about the fate of her beloved, while Hiko was maintaining the intimidating silence that had characterized him for some weeks, deeply focused on his own path. Even an imposing stature like his became indistinct at more than five meters in the thick fog.

They were still painstakingly progressing in what looked like the beginning of a storm, when a form running toward them came in sight.

" **HELP!** "

Emerging from the mist was a man, gesticulating awkwardly, an arm crossed over his abdomen.

" **HA-HAVE MERCY**!" Blood was flowing from his mouth, a little more with each word.

Saito grabbed him by the shoulder immediately, preventing the intruder from approaching them while immobilizing him with a firm grip. Anyone walking around at such a late hour was a potential suspect.

"YOooOKAII...!" continued the latter without paying any attention to the officer's hostile gesture. His eyes were sweeping the emptiness with panic ; he did not seem to be aware of what was really around him.

 _He's terrified..._

"I think we're getting closer to our goal." Completed the policeman without showing an ounce of compassion.

"Can't you see the guy's hurt ?! Let him go for fuck's sake!"

Reacting on the spot, Sanosuke waved a fist in his direction. He did not like the personality of the former Mibu any more than his methods of investigation.

"Yare yare, now you sound exactly like Battosai... is his naivety so contagious?"

 _Tsssk ... these two are thick as thieves..._

Saito smirked then released his prey, which gurgled before collapsing on himself. Hiko had crossed his arms without even touching the hilt of his sword, openly disinterested by the present interruption.

"Bring a doctor, quickly!" Kaoru instantly flew to his side, already prepared to backtrack if needed. It did not matter if that person was guilty or not, right now he required urgent care.

"Don't waste your saliva young girl, the fool's already dead..."

The former Shinsengumi lifted the man huddled to the floor, this time gripping his hair harshly. On his stomach, a clear transverse wound, from which viscera and abdominal fluids were escaping.

 _This cutting technique..._

Kenjutsu master and policeman exchanged a dark look.

 _... Kuzuryuusen?_

"But it's... it's horrible!" interrupted the young woman, as shocked by the brutal death of the stranger than by his last words. It took her a few moments to recover her mind and focus on their common goal. "He... he said something about an evil spirit ...what is that supposed to mean?" From what she had understood, the mission was to intervene in a traffickers' hideout -most of all, an important track to find Kenshin back-, not to investigate on whatever dangerous folkloric creature that would be running around the harbor. If she had heard tales and stories conveyed by the elders during her youth -which she personally granted little credit for- the gloomy atmosphere of the place they were in was willingly leading to whimsical thoughts. Moreover, the market stalls in Tokyo were provided with prints depicting Oni and other demons rising out of a mist that could very well have been the one they were all bathing in right now...

"The only thing it means is that we have no time to lose," the former Shinsengumi sliced, disparagingly dismissing the body on the side. "Let's keep going."

"But, we can't leave him like this..."

"...Miss Kamiya, shall we continue? We're not very far away anyhow." Hiko said before heading on his own side. Losing more time was anything but an option for him. Sanosuke, who also shared this opinion, cautiously grabbed the young woman by the shoulders to drag her along with them. The man was dead, and focusing on that kind of thing was useless. He was not the sensitive type, but he was more than eager to try his fists on those who had caused his friend to disappear.

The thirteenth master of Hiten Mitsurugi allowed himself to be guided by his ki for a time, then pointed out a location further from the others at the end of the northern bank. After a short walk in the grip of the Pacific's cold winds that seemed challenging for everyone - especially Kaoru and Sanosuke who were dressed nor in closely woven official uniforms nor in an imposing white cloak-, their path crossed that of another form that was emerging from the fog at full speed in their direction.

"Over here, the hangar No.41 !" shouted the leader of the procession who had done some recon, gesturing with his dripping arms. "We found it!"

Among all the hangars of Japan's impressive first maritime structure, in full development since the opening of trade to foreign countries, an older building, poorly tuned alloy of wood, concrete and decrepit metal, was standing away from the others. Apart from its more dilapidated and poorly maintained appearance, nothing could distinguish this construction from all those who were composing this bunch of warehouses, if it were not for…

 _ **...the blood.**_

The first thing that startled them when approaching was the acrid smell of hemoglobin. Omnipresent, mixed with the cold rain, it seemed to be oozing from the pores of the building. An unhealthy impression was emerging from the whole picture, like a putrescent mixture of hatred, fear, and grim violence. In fact, exactly the same impression as the one that seized them at the Saitama factory, with the exception of one detail...

 _This feeling..._

...The emanation of an obscene anger was dominating the other sensations and seemed to engulf the whole facility, projecting ghostly shadows between its four walls, deploying invisible tentacles towards the visitors as an unsaid threat to whoever would wish to enter it. Saito narrowed his eyes.

"This place smells of death."

The master of Hiten Mitsurugi nodded without uttering a word. This remark only confirmed what he had sensed since their arrival in Yokohama. The closer they got to the said hangar No.41, the more the nauseating impression became strong.

"...Anyone care to explain me what you two are talking about?" Kaoru cut, staring at the ocher pupils of the officer. On the one hand, since their arrival no one did answer her questions, and on the other hand she did not like at all what such words were implying. She had never seen a shed that looked so sordid. If the yokai did really exist, no doubt that this would be for them an ideal dwelling...

"We'll know that all too soon." Saito dismissed her with a single hand gesture. "Let's get inside, no need to split hairs even more." He motioned his teammates to stay away in first instance.

 _Things are likely to be hard enough to handle like this..._

They reached the front door without much difficulty, greatly helped by the police who was clearing the transport boxes piled up around it. Obviously, to improve discretion, the traffickers were not using the main access to reach their crime scene, and had to favor the night in order to travel. It was not excluded that they were also employing an underground access system, which would in any case require investigators to search for potential cavities dug in the immediate vicinity of the port, or even in the cliffs overlooking the ocean, looking for hidden sea access.

 _A place like this would be perfect to smuggle illegal goods abroad..._

A few clips of shears and steel locks hit the sodden ground. The head of the Tokyo police was the first to cross the threshold, hand on the hilt of his sword. If the brightness inside was barely sufficient, the guards at the entrance however were not an issue : in the cramped room that served as a vestibule were only a dusty wooden box and two corpses.

"At least, those won't be a threat ..."

Lying coarsely against each other, the bodies were no longer showing any sign of life. Their faces, on the other hand, were frozen by post-mortem rigidity in an expression of absolute terror, their ocular globes flipped backwards and bulging with the lack of oxygen, their necks bearing evocative purplish marks.

"Middle-aged men, no obvious wounds by firearms or edged weapons...could they have been tortured?" Saito hulled the victims' state with a professional stare, deep in thought.

"No, their death was faster than that," decided the master of Hiten Mitsurugi. "The one who attacked them never intended to spare them."

"Well... Judging by the look of their injuries, I would say the most plausible scenario remains that they were strangled... Anyway they didn't die long ago." The officer scanned the whole room, gradually adapting to the faint darkness. "Which means that their executioner is probably still around."

"...it's a fuckin' butchery yeah!" added Sanosuke, who had gone a few steps further, almost tripping over a new obstacle.

Not far behind the two first men, on either side of the massive door that was leading directly to the center of the building, other bodies were present, sliced clean this time by the cut of a sword. Their fluids had spread to the ground and formed a purple trickle that was still running down the wall.

"Either there are several killers, or the weapon was recovered along the way." observed the officer, while meticulously recording their footsteps.

"This is sick..." Kaoru lacked adjectives to describe the disgust she was experiencing. The young mistress of the living spirit had barely put a foot in the building, that the abominable impression she had felt at the Saitama factory was threatening to overwhelm her anew. She had never forgotten it since and the unhealthy sensation was yet haunting her dreams.

"Hmpf..."

Hiko advanced ahead of his comrades, stepping over the corpses with indifference. As far as he was concerned, he didn't give a darn about the victims and their attackers, same for the police investigation. He had come to fetch his disciple, and since their arrival at the Yokohama's port, his apprehension was only but growing... A painfully familiar and extremely violent ki was leading him precisely to that place. Even before entering the building, he already had an idea of what was going on here. And, as if to confirm his fears, he could now hear behind the thick metal door overlooking the heart of the shed a litany of muffled howls. Seijuro eagerly pushed the heavy structure, which opened with a series of rattling and squeaking. And froze.

The entire intervention group that was following him closely, also stopped dead at the doorway.

 _Kami-sama ..._

* * *

 **Amongst all the outcomes considered, none could prepare them for the unspeakable horror that was laying within the hangar No.41.**

* * *

From the concrete floor to the corrugated iron walls, the huge hall was lined with blood, viscera bathed in their mucky juices, clothes roughly torn and the corpses to which they belonged. A malevolent aura was filling the room with a burning and nightmarish atmosphere, to the point where they forgot for a moment the presence of starving children tied up in the back room. Worse, above all others, prevailed the overwhelming scent of death...

 _Fuck..._

At the center of this dreadful spectacle, surrounded by a cacophony of strangled cries, was swirling a character with long hair, as crimson as the hemoglobin he was tearing out of his victims. On his somewhat scrawny body, blood stuck on the shreds of his clothes and clumped indecently above his skull, his skin lacerated with bruises and shackles bites. It was only when his face turned briefly in their direction that they were able to recognize the man they had come to seek. His bloodshot eyes were gleaming like two terrifying pools of amber filled with hatred. His look ... Inhuman. Obscene. _Haunted._

Himura was unrecognizable.

Alternately using his saber and his left hand, he was slicing the corpses one after the other, cutting off their limbs and eviscerating their abdomens with his weapon, twisting their necks and dismembering their jaws with anything he could using the rest of his body, pursuing the men still alive to smash their skulls one against the other. The lucky ones were fainting before.

Traces of blows and bullets grazing his clothes showed that the traffickers had first tried to defend themselves before all of them fell into an abyss of terror.

" **YAMERROOo-** !"

Obeying his first impulse, without thinking for an instant about the consequences of his act, Sanosuke rushed to his friend as soon as he identified him...

*Oumpfff-*

...only to be brutally stopped by a sharp blow on the plexus coming from the former Shinsengumi.

"AHOU, don't go!"

 _At this point, nothing can stop him..._

Saito, who was watching closely and methodically the slaughter, had reached the dreadful conclusion that he could not interfere. His long experience of warfare allowed him to recognize a man that had exceeded the limits of sanity, and when this one turned out to be namely Himura Battosai, Ishin Shishi's most endowed and intelligent cold-hearted killer, jumping into that bloodshed even armed with his katana was tantamount to a suicide.

 _So that's what happens when he's pushed beyond the limits..._

For the first time of his life the former Shinsengumi captain did not want to compete against his ancestral enemy. Because _this_ was not a fight...

 _...this is a massacre…_

And this was not Kenshin Himura.

Sanosuke was probably feeling the same way, since his legs and brain were now refusing to take another step towards the murderer. He had instinctively placed himself in front of the young kendoka, fists and teeth furiously clenched, as if to protect her from a threat himself knew nothing about.

 _KUSO!_

Among human feelings, helplessness was the one he hated the most.

The assassin grabbed another man, slashed his throat. The blow was so violent that two cervical vertebrae were all that prevented his head from separating from the rest of the body.

 _It's a nightmare..._

Spared by the bloodbath of Bakumatsu, Kaoru Kamiya was likewise paralyzed by the scene unfolding before her eyes. Never during her life had she witnessed acts of such savagery. Eyes wide open, hand resting on her mouth to stifle a sudden urge to vomit, she remained stuck to the wet floor, knees on the doorstep.

 _That's impossible... Is it... really him...?_

Her eyes had crossed those of the murderer when he had turned briefly toward them, and she had immediately realized that -just as during his confrontation with the former Shinsengumi- her calls would not bring him back. His anger came from another world. Whoever was still living in this body had looked upon her as a stranger. All her reflexes of kendoka were asking her to flee, feeling the absurd danger that was radiating from him, and she was certain not to come out alive of any attempt to confront him, even verbal. Her heart, however, was forbidding her to leave.

...Hiko Seijuro the XIIIth, without losing a second, threw himself on his disciple.

* * *

 _ **Next chapter :**_ The assassin that lives in me

* * *

 _ **A/N :**_ again, thank you for your wonderful comments (and said weird compliments, I absolutely welcome them too, it's a great thing to have such precise review for it helps me a lot to try to improve :D), please continue to tell me what you think ! I hope you had seen this scenario's development coming, we aren't yet at the middle of the story (we'll get there soon, though) !

Happy (very) late-Halloween everyone ;D


	18. The assassin who lives in me

_**A/N :**_

Sumimaseeeen ! I deeply apologize for being so late ! I've been delayed both by the writing of my Ruroken Christmas story *Santa works in mysterious ways*, the heavy work of translation this story always needs and a busy personal life. You have been so many to leave a word for the latest chapter, it's only thanks to your reviews that I've found the strength to finish this one !

 _Thank you for so much following me (guests and silent voices too), here is a much longer chapter this time! ;)_

* * *

 ** _Chapter 18 :_ The assassin who lives in me**

* * *

 **That was all.**

 **That was all it had taken for Kenshin Himura to kill anew.**

 **Not a sworn enemy trying at any cost to take revenge upon him, nor a powerful man struggling to overthrow the government and lead the whole country into another endless war, or a step-brother who would want to slay his beloved a second time, not even someone who resented him personally...**

 **No, only the souvenir of a long-buried past, ringing from the darkest days of his life the ruthless tocsin of barbarity, throwing his body and mind once again into what humanity could do of cruelest...**

 **More than ten years after the Bakumatsu, one of the very reasons that had led him into the whirlwind of revolution was about to send him in hell one more time.**

* * *

Everything happened very fast.

Seijuro Hiko threw himself into the fray without the slightest hesitation. He dodged the bodies with agility, and, knowing by heart the movements and reflexes of his apprentice, evaded the sword thrust indifferently towards his jugular by pivoting his massive body at the last moment before carrying a blow at his opponent's back, using the centrifugal force generated by his own movement.

 _ **"Ryuukansen"**_

Kenshin turned in extremis to counter the strike with his blade, only to receive a second hit carried by the sheath, even more violent, which crashed at full strength on the outer face of the wrist holding his katana. The severe injury on his left shoulder combined with the lack of mobility of a stiff and anemic chest did not allow him to dodge the sharply accurate attack in time.

 _ **"... Sooryusen"**_

The shock caused him to release the handle of the weapon for a split-second, and it was this brief opening that allowed Hiko to use his body which vigor had been forged by decades of rigorous training as a barrier to restrain both his arms and legs, clasping him with an expert gesture. It did not matter if the powerful grasp was aggravating the wounds of his disciple. A second of doubt, a single mistake in his motions and his own head could have rolled.

*nnGRaaAAH*

The assassin immediately forced on his muscles. Blood spurted from his wounds, splashing the limbs holding him back.

 **"GET OFF !"**

The hoarse anger ringing in the redhead's voice would have petrified any man. He was putting a tremendous pressure on each gripping point, ready to leap to execute his attacker at the slightest weakness. The thirteenth master of Hiten Mitsurugi tightened his embrace.

 **"I'LL... KILL... THEM. ALL."**

While the assassin was waving his amber eyes frantically, threatening to tear apart the flesh that was compressing him with teeth if necessary, Seijuro closed his eyes and opened his lips. His imposing strength, far exceeding that of his disciple in terms of pure physical capacity, gave him the time of immobilization needed to murmur the chosen words in the hollow of his ear.

"... ... ... ... ... ..."

His calm but powerful tone, both reassuring and carrying an indisputable authority, floated in the thick air of the room for a while. When he eventually recognized his voice, the former Ishin Shishi froze. For seconds that stretched out like eternity only the sound of the rumbling storm outside was resounding between the walls saturated with moisture of the Hangar No 41. The pattern of time seemed to be suspended for a long moment, during which none of those present would dare to breathe.

Then, when his words finally echoed in the cataclysm of his brain, the assassin completely stopped struggling. The master of Hiten Mitsurugi, feeling the variations in his ki, freed him from the hold of his arms. Eyes slowly turned from molten lava mirroring his soul to icy depths showing nothing but emptiness. Like a puppet risen from the dead, the disoriented gaze of his disciple lifted up and took into account its real environment.

 _No..._

If his mind was progressively dismissing the clouds that had shrouded it, his head was still turning in a nauseating way. Himura woke up like after one of his terrifying nocturnal nightmares... except that this time, blood was truly running down his hands, wrapping all of his clothes with an ocher dye, artificially coloring the skin on his face while embalming it of that familiar metallic perfume, almost seeming to be sweating from his own pores… as if he had been thrown straight into one of those countless sleepless night, back in his years among Kyoto's Ishin Shishi, that he had spent a decade trying to forget...

 _This is not... an illusion..._

"That's enough." Seijuro went on aloud this time "Only corpses are left here... Look around you."

Hiko tapped lightly on his shoulder to pull him out of his trance. When he realized that he was indeed speaking the truth and that he remained now the only hostile presence in the warehouse, Kenshin allowed his senses to come back to the present time.

 _Breathe. Take the blood off your blade._

He closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, before practicing the ancestral movement of the chiburi that had once become a reflex, and replaced the katana in his scabbard using an almost mechanical gesture.

A collective sigh of relief crossed the hangar 41. For the audience who had watched both the unearthly battle and the assassin's change of behavior following the almost inaudible whispers of his master, that instant would remain forever a mystery.

 _A word... a word, and he stopped..._

No one could explain what really happened between the two men, nor describe the nature of the link bonding them to one another. What was certain was that in order to appease the murderous madness of Battosai with just a sentence, Himura and Hiko definitely had to share more than a simple a teacher-student relationship.

"KENSHIIINN !"

As soon as the weapon was sheated, Kaoru began running towards the wanderer. Still horrified and disgusted by the appalling scene she had witnessed, ignoring her instinct that was screaming at her to flee far from this dangerous individual, she just rushed to him. Concerned above all for the one she loved, the young mistress of Kamiya Kasshin had a soul so charitable it was giving wings to her courage. She stumbled over her shivering legs, swallowed her cries for not showing them, forced a smile on her face to prevent him from guessing the fear that was devouring her heart.

"Anata ..."

He was covered in blood. His skin was sometimes cadaverous sometimes icteric, and violent chains marks were visible on his neck and limbs. His right arm was twisted in an unreasonable angle, just like the fingers at the end of it. On his skull, a horrendous and seeping wound... Evidence of abuse were visible everywhere on his body.

 _He was tortured..._

Kaoru put a hand on his forearm, tense and burning, but her limbs trembled anyway, and hot tears began to flow down her cheeks against her will.

"Kenshin, speak... speak to me?"

He turned his face towards her, two iced irises filled with hemoglobin piercing long ocher locks partly stuck by blood. Kaoru saw no emotion in his vitreous pupils. Himura, as for him, only saw the fear written everywhere over the face of his beloved, and the horror inspired by each of his gesture.

"Tell... Tell me something..." she sucked at her breath "Anything..."

In her eyes, he saw nothing but the reflection of a monster.

The assassin did not utter a word, broke eye contact with her, and walked away without ever turning back. Kenshin coldly chose to ignore her presence, for he was unable to cope with his feelings right now, or even think about what he had just done... he simply _couldn't_. If he took on the sweet and innocent wanderer's mask it had asked him years to build, he would simply collapse. Yet, he had a task to complete before, and his mind just as what was left of his forces was focused solely on that.

 _The children…_

Little time was left before adrenalin definitely vanish from his body, and he intended to lose none. He slowly removed the blood on his hands by scrubbing them methodically. That very same gesture he had practiced so many times when he was still wearing the banner of Choshu patriots.

 _The children… must be freed._

At the back of the immense hall, bound altogether and to the oozing walls by interlacing of ropes and dirty chains, stood the curled up and hematoma-covered shapes of those who had once been kids. Small brown, black or blond heads, sometimes scared sometimes apathetic, were overlooking their emaciated bodies. To see these pale reflections of humanity amounted to contemplate the worst of what mankind could do. And, if such images were already atrocious for common people, they were more unsustainable yet in the eyes of the one who had gone through the same hell...

 **[Right before my very eyes...**

 **no child shall ever be deprived of his human dignity]**

Among the promises he had made, there was one which deserved to break all the others.

Kenshin walked to the young slaves, then, joining the policemen who were already bustling alongside them, began to unravel their ties. One by one and with infinite patience, he made sure to slow down his gestures to avoid touching flesh while doing so, to soften his tone so as not to hurt them with a voice that was still hoarse. He was looking at each one of them in the eyes. Since he too had been this chained, abused and emotionally broken child, he did not need codes to understand what they were feeling at that moment.

" _Mee di nude ku..._ "

Then, gradually, those who were still terrified and folded on themselves, locked for weeks and even months in their filth at the corner of this lugubrious hangar, began to raise their heads. To look around again, to walk for those who still could...

" _Shaley koot-tum_ "

To the chagrin of the former Shinsengumi captain, his rival, though covered with blood from head to toe, seemed to be more able to cope with the victims than the official team he was mentoring. While the kids were frightened by the police officers in full uniforms that had rushed to release them as soon as the calm had returned, they were more willing to let themselves be guided by the scary-looking assassin who was speaking like them. Himura knew exactly which posture to adopt and which words to pronounce. He _knew_ that they should not be touched, that he had to be cautious but not soft, reassuring but not comforting. Softness may be reminiscent of tenderness, and tenderness may be perceived as an unhealthy intention. In such a state of shock, the slightest behavior could be misinterpreted, and he knew from experience this trauma would last for years.

Hiko, who was watching attentively the reactions of his disciple since he had come to his senses, was carried away by a long-buried melancholy. To the eyes of the man who had passed on his legacy to a too-kind soul, there was in this scene as much sadness as irony. The child whose liberty had once been stolen had turned into the hand that spreads death, before becoming, in turn, the one who rescues.

 _This whole thing is not so surprising, after all..._

"I don't get it..."

Kaoru had not moved from the spot where the samurai had left her without giving her a choice, his cold and inexpressive gaze yet nailed in her very core. The latter, kneeling in front of the group of children, was still releasing them while using a strange-sounding language "...W-What is he saying to them?"

"This, I cannot tell. I've only heard glimpses of it, and that was a long time ago..." Hiko whispered, contemplating with regret his tunic now stained with blood. "…Creole, the code of slaves."

"Whaat ?"

"...Well, to be more specific, a dialect of their own, this name just stands for the one used by pagan prisoners that Portuguese were bringing here from outerseas, during Edo era." seeing the blank look on their faces, he proceeded to explain. "...As they come from various places and are often deported far from their original home, by dint of time and mixing, they generally end up developing a sort of approximate wording resulting of their different cultures."

There was a graveyard silence.

"Didn't you know that ?" he mocked. "These alternative languages do exist all over the world, this country is no exception. I didn't know he could speak it so fluently, though."

Had anyone ever believed Hiko was a mere talented swordsman without erudition, this little babbling was putting an end to the misunderstanding. If one took a closer look at them, the victims crowded into the hangar had multiple origins : most of them were coming from the deepest parts of Asia, but there was also some Caucasians, and children with such exotic features that no one here could guess about their ethnic group.

"But then... _how come he knows this language_?"

Kaoru had a tremendous gift for asking aloud the disturbing questions everyone was politely trying to avoid, her blue eyes shining with disarming sincerity.

"Well..."

"...well ?"

Except for the former Shinsengumi who was busy organizing the rescue, all eyes were on Seijuro Hiko, who seemed to hold much more information than he wanted to share...

"That is to say..."

For once, the impressing swordsman looked like he was having doubts.

 _I'm not the one who should be telling them those things..._

And then the omnipresent smell of blood came back to his nostrils. The massacre.

Hiko sighed. Given the situation, he owed them at least a few explanations.

"Let's say that Kenshin has..."

The master was silent for a moment, gaining precious seconds to tame his voice. He had never forgotten it. In the back of his mind, he could still picture the child suffering unbearable nightmares, shredding each of his nights until the age of eleven... These memories, in light of the bloodshed he had before his eyes, became painful even for a hardened hermit like him. For years, he had witnessed the after-effects of this life-period on his own disciple, and had he suspected for a moment that all of this would know such a macabre end more than a decade later... he would probably never have taught him how to use a sword.

"This is neither the place nor the time to talk about this, but ..."

Seijuro choke down his bitterness. The less he would say, the better.

"…Long ago, Kenshin has been one of those kids. It was another era, just before I took him under my wings."

"... **WHAAAT**!?" Sanosuke felt that same the mixture of disgust and stupefaction that had struck him at the building's entry again. His brain had suddenly made the connection between the two scenes. "You -you mean he's been... sold to slavers !?"

"That is correct."

Hiko stopped his anecdote here. The rest was none of their concern. If his disciple ever chose to share more intimates memories with them, the decision would be his and his alone. For afterwards, the thirteenth master of Hiten Mitsurugi would remain as mute as a tomb. And, in all honesty, he was already starting to be annoyed by their lingering glances.

"If this is true... then it's _horrible_..."

Her voice was barely a whisper. Still drowned into the damp and putrid atmosphere of the hangar, surrounded by dead corpses, Kaoru was processing another shock. He had never said a word about any of this.

 _Just how miserable has his life been ?_

The more they were learning about the wanderer's past, the more appalling revelations were ensuing. Himura had never spoken of his childhood... and she had not pushed the subject, believing that he would testify things in due time and only if he wished. Digging out old memories was useless and she was not the type to care about people's antecedents. In the eyes of Kaoru Kamiya, everyone was entitled to a second chance.

 _...Should I have asked him questions about his past ? Would he have answered me, would this have changed anything ?_

Since the day they met him, Kenshin always had the upper hand on the most intricate opponents, dominating them with his swordsmanship as well as psychologically in fair fights. He was for them a model of righteousness, will and courage. The thought of him in such a situation of weakness and helplessness while he was but a child was throwing an unexpected insight to his already painstaking history.

 _What if this slaughter was related to the trauma he experienced in his youth ? That would somewhat change the situation..._

Even if such carnage was inconceivable for the young mistress of the sword that protects life, these revelations were bringing another piece to the enigma leading to the birth of the deadliest assassin of this century. And to a soul crippled with countless wounds, particularly unstable...

 _Kenshin probably had his reasons for reacting like this..._ _otherwise, I cannot believe he could have..._

"I don't know if I can accept this... but I think I understand a little better," Kaoru muttered, more for herself than for the others. In spite of her young age, the heiress of the Kamiya dojo was endowed with an important resilience combined with a boundless compassion. This same character trait had provided her with many allies and allowed the lady to reach the deeply-buried heart of the wanderer. She would progress through her life at all costs, determined to live it to the fullest. By tapping into the resources of her inner force, she would one day find the strength to forgive him.

 _Yet... do I truly know him ?_

The more she was observing the piles of inert bodies and their distorted limbs, bathing in their fluids, the more the tremendous doubt was creeping into her soul.

 _...Will I be able to love the man he really is ?_

All these new information were raising as many questions which were now assaulting her brain. She did not know where to start. Despite the lump growing in her throat at the sight of Kenshin in this ghastly state, she could no take her eyes off him.

Indifferent to the presence of those he had come to consider as his friends, he was still imperturbably working to free the young slaves and lead them to the policemen's carriage waiting outside, always speaking to the kids with a foreign-sounding language, behaving with a delicacy mingled of prudence that belonged only to him. He had a soothing word for each one of them. If not for his creepy appearance, it was hard to believe that this person was responsible for such a bloodshed, the monster that had killed most of the traffickers in this building alone by himself...

"These freaks deserved to die, anyway", Sanosuke concluded, not concealing his disgust regarding those who were committing these abominable transactions.

 _But in this way.._. He pondered his remark, acknowledging the surrounding carnage. _I'd never seen Kenshin completely lose control of himself..._

...Even ten years after the Bakumatsu, his friend definitely remained a dangerous individual... He made a personal promise never to forget that point. The man standing in front of them was in truth much more frightening than the so-called Hittokiri Battosai, bloodthirsty demon of Kyoto, whose legend murmured under the cover of the night was still terrorizing the streets of the former capital...

"I'm going out to fetch water ; these poor kids'll need to clean their wounds. Don't worry about my stupid pupil, I'll stay with you for a while." Hiko stated, startling them out of their troublesome reflections. If his face seemed haughty and impassive, his voice was somehow softer than usual.

Without waiting for an answer, he turned on his heel and walked resolutely back to where he came from. Although she was surprised by the hermit's request at first, Kaoru admitted inwardly that his presence could only be beneficial for the wanderer. The terrifying man they had discovered tonight was unknown to them, shattering with a swing of his blade all the rules he had laid down with his friends, and his master seemed the only one capable of reading him. Had he not been there this evening, the events could have taken a much more drastic turn...

 _We will probably need him... for the what's to come..._

As he was watching the master's white coat gradually disappear into the mist outside, Sanosuke was also lost in his thoughts. The idea of helping to free the victims had actually crossed his mind, but just like Hiko he had quickly dropped the project, already seriously supported by the many police officers on the spot, himself much more concerned about the personal situation of his friend.

 _...Now. How can I help him?_

He was already bitterly sorry for having abandoned him once because of his impulsive character, when this one had taken refuge in the outcast districts after Enishi's trap, and intended to resolve the situation more calmly this time. In these kinds of extreme situations, it was better to evaluate things pragmatically than to let emotions speak for themselves.

 _For one thing, Kenshin is alive. That's what matters most._

That was more than they could ever hope just a few days ago. Yes, the former assassin had killed again, but he had also survived twice the death of his wife. He was stronger than that.

 _The rest... we'll deal with it later._

Sanosuke turned towards the young kendoka, whose swollen, reddened eyes betrayed the nervous condition.

 _First, to move Kaoru away …_

* * *

Even in his worst assessments Hajime Saito had not excepted that his matter could grow to such proportions. From the moment the danger was under control, he began to think about further investigations, while summoning his team members to enter the building, take care of the children's evacuation, the identification of the dead and... the clean-up.

 _There are at least fifty kids in this hangar alone... not to mention those who must have already left by boat. This cannot be the work of a single group of Japanese traffickers. How long have they been operating here? And WHO's buying these "goods"?_

An awful number of unanswered questions were already pressing into his head. Adding to that, another piece of data was disturbing his calculations...

 _Himura is not in full possession of his faculties._

The officer, accustomed to police raids in search of the drug dealers who had been swarming in the capital since the expansion of trade with China, had recorded a detail the others had not noticed.

 _His pupils are not focused. A little like..._

His eyes reminded him of the junkies from deprived areas like Rakuninmura, wandering like lifeless scarecrows in the streets littered with rubbish and remains of their abuses. The opium war was still raging in Japan, often sacrificing the poorest section of a society reorganized by the Meiji government.

 _...chemical submission? I wouldn't be surprised to find out that slave traders are actually using this kind of method... especially to keep someone like Battosai prisoner._

Really, his disgust for this case had no limit. He sneered inwardly thinking that, in view of the massacre that was laying before him, even the drugs had obviously failed to contain the former finest assassin of the Ishin Shishi.

 _..._ _And if his behavior was caused by_ _withdrawal symptoms_ _or a sort of paradoxical response to narcotics, it would explain many things..._

Goro Fujita was not a specialist in the medical field, but he had seen this kind of reaction when keeping drug addicts at the police station. During the comedown phases, they could show behaviors ranging from simple delirium to violent crises that required to tie both their arms and legs to avoid injury towards themselves or one of their cell partners.

 _One thing's for sure : Himura is certainly not in his normal state... and this will make the deliberations on his criminal record easier._

He looked at the young kendoka and the rooster's head standing a few meters away from him, questioning the fact of sharing this information with them...

 _Hmm._

...before deciding to spare them in the first instance of all the judicial consequences of this incident, realizing that they were actually plunged into an eventful discussion.

 _They will already have enough to do with Battosai... I will take care of his file with the government alone._

Saito considered this as a gesture towards his former opponent. Although part of him was regretting the outcome of this affair - he would not wish even his worst enemy to exceed the limits of his composure to this extent – there wasn't much more he could do to help him in this regard. And he had objectively other fish to fry for time being. As far as he was concerned... the children had been found, Himura was alive and the traffickers were momentarily disabled : primary mission accomplished.

* * *

"...so, now what do we do?"

Sanosuke frowned and grabbed the young kendoka's shoulders.

"Come on, we're goin' out too. The cops're doin' their job, it's useless to hang around here."

 _If Kenshin was in his right mind, he'd like me to keep the missy safe first and foremost._

Reacting as a true friend, the former Sekihotai was already anticipating the wanderer's innate wishes. Now that they knew he was out of harm's way, no need for Kaoru to continue seeing these horrors and engraving an even more nightmarish picture of the man she initially intended to marry. That would only complicate things for the future.

 _In his place, I wouldn't want anyone to see me in this condition._

"But... even if he's safe now, I can't let him there by himself. Didn't you see how hurt he is?" The concern in her voice was evident. "And I'm not only talking of his body... ! He's just broken his vow and..."

Although she was insisting vehemently in front of Sanosuke, the treacherous tears had begun to flow freely again on her cheeks. She was obsessed with the oath the wanderer had been protecting for so long, that was now shattered like a childhood dream...

 _ **No matter what happens, I shall never kill again.**_

It was his mantra. The dogma that has been ruling his existence for more than ten years... the one by which he had won a place in her home, the dojo of the Sword that protects life. More than his promise, Himura had broken the heart of the young woman.

"We're not there yet!" snapped the brawler, hoping to put an end the growing debate. "Kenshin's just come to his senses, he's busy freein' the kidies and frankly for now he doesn't look like he's willin' to chat with us _at all_!"

"I don't care if he doesn't want speak to me ! I'll stay there until he does!"

"Give him some time, Jou-chan... Ya know ya can't force him. He'll do it when he's ready to spit it out, just like he did with Tomoe's memories."

Deep down, however, the former Sekihotai was convinced that Kenshin sometimes needed for his sake to have words beaten out of him by force, as he was so introverted towards his own feelings. But after what he had just been through...

 _Now's not the time for him to get Jou-chan's feelings right in the face ... it's better if he goes back home with me or with his master._

"... And then, whaddya expect next? All the bastards have kicked the bucket and Saito and his boys gotta things under control. Even Hiko's hangin' 'round there, and he may look like an insensitive jerk, believe me, he won't let anythin' happen to his disciple! "

Kaoru crossed her arms, feverishly supporting his gaze despite her shock-like state, still barely convinced by his answer.

"As I've said, leaving without Kenshin is out of the question. I have to be with him no matter what!"

Sanosuke involuntarily squeezed the grip he was keeping on her shoulders. The young woman was going to be terribly difficult to convince, and yet she had to be out of danger by any price.

 _Kenshin's looked at her like a stranger... I dunno in what frame of mind he truly is, and if she rushes him too much... God knows how he could react..._

The burning gaze of the former Ishin Shishi was still engraved in him. That of a beast.

 _And if anythin' happened to her by his own hand, he would never forgive himself... I gotta get her out of here._

"... come with me, Kaoru."

This time, his voice was deadly serious.

"There's no point in trying to change my mind ! I won't move from this place as long as he's here, even if I have to spend the ni-"

" **-STOP bein' so selfish for once !** What good d'ya think ya'll do by cryin' like that in front of him ?!"

Even if it hurt deeply, that last strike at least kept her quiet.

"He's alive Jou-chan, that's what counts ! There's nothin' more we can do for now so don't make things worst with yar childish feelin's! "

Under normal circumstances, she would have punched him for those words, but he had hit a sensitive issue. She lowered her head. There was no point in trying to prevent the hot tears from falling anymore.

 _I'm not strong enough._

"...Maybe... Maybe you're right..."

 _I have to clear my head before confronting him._ _He'll need me._

No matter how mature she wanted to be, this whole incident had profoundly shocked her. She could hardly picture what would come next nor the consequences of what just happened. As a priority, the wanderer's damaged body would have to be treated first, which should allow her a respite to clear her head meanwhile, then the time to heal the wounds the eye cannot see would come and it will be her turn to intervene, but...

 _...What will become of both of us ?_

Convincing the mind was one thing, persuading the heart was another.

Finally making up her mind to leave, Kaoru took a last glance at the inside of the doomed hangar No41. To the west, the policemen who were organizing to send for more repatriation vehicles, to the north, the cohort of rickety children them and Kenshin were releasing, to the east the huge door of the shed open on the cold night where the sky was tearing apart. The vision would haunt her for years.

"I spoke with Seijuro, there's a small hostel right next to the port... we'll stay there until Kenshin's finished his work with the cops." continued the brawler, softening his voice "...ya'll have some time to rest while waitin' to see him again. Come... "

Protective instinct overtaking any other consideration, Sanosuke dragged the young kendoka by the arm to remove her as quickly as possible from here.

 _To support Kenshin, I gotta secure the one he loves first. This is how he's always done._

He sent a knowing glance to the master of Hiten Mitsurugi who was staying at the entrance of the building, ensuring his presence, while Kaoru, obviously distressed by the scene she had just witnessed, was feverishly drawn outside.

Hajime Saito on his side was up for at least a complete night in this hell in order to set things straight. Without living witness to question on top of that. Certainly, his former rival had not made the task any easier with his work.

 _Be that as it may, this human trafficking far exceeds our borders ..._

While investigating this matter, they had stepped foot in something much bigger... Just thinking about it, the officer was getting headaches. People abroad were necessarily involved in the traffic. Unraveling the network was going to take a lot of time... New weeks, no, new months of work on the horizon... The continuation of this affair would in any case be complicated.

 _Either way, we must finish the business down here first!_

The resurgence of human activity at the end of this isolated dock of Yokohama harbor would continue for a few more days at most, then, as if nothing had ever happened there, the seagulls would gradually return on the spot to reclaim the abandoned sheds whose colors were damaged by the relentless rains. Traces of hemoglobin, on the other hand, would need several months to disappear...

* * *

At the heart of this sordid evening, once he was sure any children was put to safe, the murderer had taken advantage of the stirring atmosphere to disappear. Under the very nose of the policemen, he had left the gloomy hangar No. 41 like a ghost fades from the scene of his crimes.

At the contact of the cold air of the night, damp from the humidity of the raging weather suddenly sticking to his very pores, energy completely drained from his body. The adrenalin that had kept him standing until now vanished as it had come. All the pain, the starvation and the exhaustion from this last month crushed him with the strength of the storm that was tearing Yokohama's sky.

A few more steps, and the world crumbled under his feet.

In the massive arms of the man that had raised him, knowingly waiting for his disciple outside the heavy iron door of the hangar No 41,

Himura Kenshin collapsed.

* * *

 _ **Next chapter**_ : Days of storm

* * *

 _ **Answers for the last chapter :**_

 _ **kaoruca :**_ Each time I'm so glad to have your opinion ! Sorry about the previous short ending, the variation of chapter's length is mostly due to the partitioning of the story. I've done better this time, it's a twice longer one ! ;)

 _ **Indigoblueribbon :**_ Well I'm also not found of all-soapy-happy stories because they don't match real life. I think this is the same for Kenshin's story, everything is not black or white and it's part what I like in this series ! I've got a long plan for the rest of this story and it's great to read words like yours, I've done my best to update as quickly as I could (not fast enough, but an update nonetheless) :)

 _ **marymclaughlin21 :**_ I believe dark stories are the one that strike people the most, at least that is the case for me ! I'm happy to find out there are other people like me out there, and to have the occasion to share with them a glimpse of less-consensual fictions ;)

 _ **the 4w5 neko :**_ Well I honestly thought that chapter 17 was less dark than the previous one, but I guess I was wrong... ^^° Thank you very much for your continuous support ! I eagerly wait for your fiction on Kenshin's past !

 _ **Skenshingumi :**_ yes, Hiko had guessed what he would find there, but he has chosen not to spare Kaoru on purpose. He knows the deep nature of his disciple like no one else and wants her to have a real glimpse or what he is, even if it could cost their relationship. From his point of view, she should not stay with Kenshin (for her sake and his) if she cannot accept all of him. Of course, I couldn't picture young Yahiko in the scene, that would be too cruel ! Again it's a pleasure to share with you about Ruroken point of view ! ;)

 _ **BlackPetals4 :**_ thank you for this long comment ! This is truly the kind of thing that encourages me for going on despite the huge work this fiction asks from me :D A lot of what you've said was already intended to be treated in this chapter and you were quite right about Kenshin's reality, I hope you'll enjoy your coming here !


	19. Days of storm

_**A/N :**_ I'm so glad to finally give you this chapter! It was hard, but I really want to continue this story and you have once again given me the strength to go on this painful translation (as you know I like the writing part pretty much as I hate the translation part. We would already be 3 chapters ahead without that... not counting the many single stories I have in store, forever untranslated). Thank you for your support, I love you all!

 _ **Lexicon :**_

Kuso (k'so!) = sh*t!

* * *

 _ **Chapter 19 :**_ **Days of storm**

* * *

The small inn in which they had found shelter, directly bordering the sinister port of Yokohama, was of the same ilk. Remote and morose. A mixture of dark woods and time-yellowed paper was forming its walls, supported by a floor that squeaked willingly to the passage of unwelcome visitors. With simply one candle and a futon in the oshiire of each of the four rooms, the comfort here was reduced to a minimum.

"Such a dreary place..."

"At least the landlady has been kind enough to let us in, I'm not sure many would have done so in these conditions."

A rather chilling recollection, if you ask her. Kaoru was thinking back to the hunchbacked old woman who had opened at sodden travelers in the middle of the night, drumming desperately at her door. She had not looked quite surprised by their arrival, as if the ghosts that seemed to haunt the wharves were usual hosts for her.

"Big deal, we're her only customers! I'd bet she just needs money." a hand on his growling belly, Sanosuke was poking around the room, betting his luck on finding any free-food left for guests "Pfouah! My only solace is in knowin' this bloody wolf's still up there... "

"Honestly, I pity Saito."

 _I couldn't have stand one more minute in that place._

For once the young teacher of Kamiya Kasshin school was feeling sincere sympathy towards the policeman. The events of last evening had left her completely drained, her mind ironically free from any useful idea as how to deal with the complicated situation that was sure to come. She had taken advantage of the last hours before sunrise to recover from the stressful moments spent in the hangar 41, but even a deep sleep, heavily fueled by the fatigue related to her emotional shock, had not been able to erase the horror of what she had seen there.

 _...And to think Kenshin and Hiko have spent the entire night in this warehouse ..._

Finally falling from exhaustion, the murderer had been then carried by his master and put to rest in the only room upstairs, more quiet. They had let him doze for a few hours, before deciding by mutual agreement that it was better to treat his injuries without further delay, at the risk of disturbing a more than necessary rest.

But, as a logical outcome of this unforeseen nightmare, the wanderer's reaction had taken all of them aback.

As soon as a hand was laid on him, Kenshin had started to emit unintelligible moans, still engulfed in what looked like a nebulous sleep. Kaoru had sought to wake the wanderer by talking to him, first gently then while raising her voice, which had brought him to briefly reopen confused blue eyes on her, before starting to shout indistinctly, not seeming to recognize any of the individuals present in the small room. The din of cries had compelled the poor innkeeper to seal the doors and windows of her establishment, for fear of arousing suspicions of potential passersby.

The workflow that ensued was all the more chaotic. His limbs were wagging in the empty air, striving blindly to distance any of those who would approach him, knocking at random every time someone tried to touch his body. By getting too close from him, the young kendoka had received a lost-hit on the jaw, and Sanosuke had to hold the wanderer by force while Hiko was doing his best to administer first aid. Antiseptic mixture hurriedly thrown on still-oozing wounds, bandages of worn tissues randomly attached around agitated and trembling limbs, treating even so roughly the wanderer in this half-awakened state had proven laborious for all those who were surrounding him...

The young kendoka, for her part, had to settle with providing material help. As soon as they had removed what was left of his clothes, since a long time in shreds, at the sight of this cold-bloodedly mutilated body -far too-emaciated for human taste- she had not been able to put her hands on the patient, petrified by what they would discover here. Even in the dim light of worn lanterns, yet insufficient to brighten the beams of a low ceiling, the cruel detail of the abuses he had endured was becoming impossible to ignore. Not a single ounce of skin had been spared by the treatment of slave traders, amalgamating unbearable entanglements of more or less deep gashes, erratic traces of burns trapped at various stages of suppuration mixed with hematomas of variegated colors, overcoming scars that were themselves way older... Unlike the fights he had led against Shishio or Enishi, the wounds here were nothing loyal nor honorable. This was outright _barbarity_. Even Sanosuke, famous for his strong stomach, had to stop for a few seconds to swallow his disgust before resuming his task with his usual obstinacy... But for the young kendoka raised far from the conflicts that had fractured the country at the fall of the shogunate, try as she might, the sight of her beloved in such a state was unsustainable. She had to resign herself to lend the landlady a helping hand, in order to boil the water required to sterilize the fabric, and to bring improvised compresses, patched-blankets dusted in a hurry as well as shakily-glowing lanterns. Only Hiko remained indifferent, strictly focused on his work despite the unpredictable spasms of his disciple, and it was largely thanks to his knowledge on how to handle concussions and cut injuries that they were able to clean and bandage in priority the most worrying wounds. The night thus unfolded at the rhythm of the rain drumming on the aging walls and the too rare words exchanged between the three friends, in the light of the wax candles burning feverishly in their paper sarcophagus around the sick man, and of the unsaid pain in the hearts of all.

Seeing the samurai struggling like this, delirious and twisted on a run-down futon, his half-closed eyes throbbing in the manner of an insane spirit, was a knife in the heart for those who knew how very lucid this man usually was.

"I'm going to look for help, if you allow me..."

Taking advantage of a brief lull in the bad weather that was shaking the harbor since the previous day, the humpbacked innkeeper had hurried outside to request the assistance of a local doctor, as soon as the first rays of sun had pierced the thick layer of clouds. The man was guided directly to the patient's room without further ado. He fortunately did not ask about the origin of the injuries nor any other explanation. On the contrary, before even checking the accomplished work, when he saw his state of restlessness the practitioner had pushed a sedative into his patient's throat, before holding his jaw closed to coerce him into swallowing. Although this forced gesture was not welcomed by everyone, the three acolytes felt however relieved when the assassin sank into an artificial slumber right in the following minutes. With the wanderer asleep and motionless, carrying out further care would be way more easy.

After a deep and careful cleaning, the wanderer's hair previously stuck by dirty clots had regained its graceful flame color, the features of his face earlier distorted their usual sweetness. And with his wounds partly hidden under a whitish forest of bandages, if it were not for his still pale complexion and hollow cheeks, he had somewhat found a human shape again.

 _He looks... much better like that._

Kaoru realized sadly that the samurai seemed far more peaceful under the effect of the sedative than he was a few minutes ago. The doctor quickly finished stitching the most worrisome wounds, then tore off his gloves and threw them to the ground, where they would join an impressive pile of soiled fabrics.

"Well, well, this is the first time I ever see a body in this state."

"A body?!" Sanosuke was running out of patience. This night had been trying for all of them. "Yar talkin' abou' my friend here, so watch your mou-"

"Anyway, it takes real guts to hold out for so long..." cut off his interlocutor, not even granting him with one look "... Even during the Boshin war, _and God knows that was a butchery_ , I have rarely witnessed that level of torture. "

Dr. Shiroishi, the only medic in that singular district of Yokohama, was scrawny, arched, and his two tiny, mischievous eyes were surmounted by round glasses that were just as small. He sounded almost fascinated by the curiosity he had in front of him and appeared to be finding some sort of sick pleasure to talk about it as if it was a kind of scientific experiment. At this early hour and under these repulsive weather, he was the only practitioner they could find. The heavy storm that greeted them on arrival was showing no sign of settling down in the coming days, leaving them with no way to contact Megumi in such conditions, or even to send news to the young Myojin -fortunately remained at the dojo, far from the abominations of the previous day. That last point will hopefully spare them a lot of explanations about what had truly happened in the hangar 41. For in all this mess, his master was at least sure of one thing : learning that his idol had reverted back to a ruthless killer would certainly not be healthy for his education, and she had no intention to bring him up to speed for now. The situation was already complicated enough as it was.

"Let's come to the facts, what about his health?" Hiko pressed, an unmistakable authority in his tone.

"I can say that, now... He's in no immediate danger. Except for his severely fractured shoulder and hand on the right side, not to mention the skull lesion that was on the verge of piercing the brain, most of his wounds _as countless as they are_ remain superficial, and more importantly, none of them has touched a vital point... That man doesn't run out of luck ! " He adjusted the frame of his binoculars on an unsightly nose "... Just be careful about the risk of infection and, of course, put some flesh back on these bones or there will be no scarring process."

"Hmm."

The master crossed his arms, while Sanosuke refrained again from knocking teeth out of the only doctor currently available for miles around at the mere suggestion of "luck" by this one. Kaoru, much more concerned about the irrational behavior of the samurai, was once again the first to approach the most sensitive issue.

"I understand, but... how come he doesn't wake up entirely?" She was wriggling her sleeves nervously, searching for the right words to voice to her thoughts. "...He looks completely lost... I mean, it's like he's... he's failing to figure out what's happening around him?"

"...That? It's probably a neurosis breakdown." Dr. Shiroishi continued, replacing his tools with almost maniacal precision, not showing any sympathy regarding the psychological condition of his patient. "You see, miss, the body remembers... when abuses are serious and repeated, it happens that the physical memory mixes with that of the mind. This phenomenon occurs more often in individuals who have predispositions to psychotic disorders, especially those who have already suffered from severe trauma during youth. " He closed his suitbag dryly. "Has he ever shown irrationally violent behavior, or multiple personality in the past?"

"..."

Kaoru glared at Sanosuke, who in turn glared at the master. Over unreadable dark eyes were furrowed brows, betraying his concern since the doctor's last words. Apart from Seijuro Hiko, no one could claim to be familiar with what happened during his childhood nor did they know Himura when he was an assassin in the pay of the Ishin Shishi. Kaoru was the first one to have met him, and that was barely two years ago. As far as his former life was concerned the redhead was as quiet as a tombstone.

 _Has Kenshin really... broke down?_

"If what you're saying is true, then... how can we fix that, Mr Shiroishi?"

"Either way, it's not good for him to be in such an agitated state of mind : those crises are the equivalent of a thunderstorm for neural synapses. First and foremost the brain has to rest. You should avoid confrontations whenever it's possible." He handed them a semi-opaque glass vial, inside which whitish tablets with a granular texture were swimming. "Take this, it should relieve him for the time being. Use it on every occasion, as long as he is in this restlessness state."

"...And after that?" the master urged, lowering his head to face the medic's.

"Well, it's much too soon to tell... He may wake up properly, as much as staying forever disabled... Mental illnesses never really heal, you know..." he went on, smiling inappropriately, before handing them a piece of stained paper on which an elaborate address was scribbled. "I have recently opened an establishment east of the city, where we take care of cases like him. Please contact the office if you need me again."

A tiny bell rang in the young kendoka's brain. She remembered that Tae had once told her about those tall, gray Western-style buildings that had been blooming throughout the country for a few years, inside which the mind-sick persons were isolated. They were rarely seen out of these asylums afterwards. As a child, her father had explained to her that these people were simply possessed by the spirits of animal demons such as the fox or the tanuki, and that their place was among the population.

"Kenshin won't need that, you can keep your paper." she added coldly, "Thank you for your work, we'll manage by our own from now on."

"As you wish. Mind you, these patients can get... especially _unpredictable_." At the very moment when a new flash of lightning was tearing the harbor sky, briefly lighting up their faces, Sanosuke would have sworn to see a petty light in the doctor's gaze. "Be sure not to forget my bill. On this... I should be on my way before the weather worsens." the latter finished, before greeting them by waving his grizzled headgear and then disappearing into the grinding staircase. When the door closed, the brawler merely spat on the floor behind him.

"Che! I can't stand that freakin' doc'..."

"You can't handle _any_ doc," the young kendoka added, "Besides, it's not like we are given many choices either. Now that we have the medication, we won't have to deal with him again, hopefully..."

"This physician is an idiot. I don't see why my stupid disciple would lose his mind simply because of one or two torture sessions..." All the while cautiously twiddling the small flask containing the irregular pills, Hiko just snorted. "Kenshin has dealt with _tougher times_."

And, unfortunately, he knew what he was talking about.

* * *

If throughout the day the wanderer's health had quickly stabilized, his level of awareness, meanwhile, had hardly progressed. Never had he regained full consciousness since the intake of the doctor's sedative several hours ago. He would open his eyes from time to time, only to stare off into the distance through half-closed lids, just as still and silent as the worn wood he was sitting on. And when he would sometimes turn his head, it was merely to fix another empty spot where nothing else but blank space could be seen for an outside gaze, looking like a vacant shell out of the present timeline.

 _No more fears, no more selfish tears now that he's back with us. I have to put my own worries aside until he's in better shape._

Anxious to avoid any infectious complication, Kaoru was constantly replacing the stained compresses on the numerous wounds, hoping by her care to trigger the attention of absent irises. Despite the precarious situation they were in, she was forcing herself to keep her spirits up, heartened by the fact of having found him alive after a month of desperately fruitless research. And if the terrifying image of the killer was still engraved in her memory, her voice stayed soft and sweet every time she was speaking to him.

"...Kenshin..."

 _It's as if we had only found his envelope..._

Most of the time she was kneeling next to the wanderer on the lookout for the slightest need, her fingers patiently resting over his. Since words could not reach him, maybe tenderness and gentle touch could relieve his pain a little, or so she thought.

 _He has probably been far more deprived of human warmth than all of us so far..._

She took a deep breath and delicately adjusted the collar of his yukata, which was carelessly protruding.

"Kenshin, do you hear me...?"

In front of her, two glassy orbs like lost in another world, and not a single head movement. Sitting flat on his knees, his amethyst eyes painfully rooted on the void, the assassin remained as mute as motionless. As if the horizon was fascinating him, and that he was only part of the background.

 _He's somewhere else completely... I don't even know where to begin to communicate with him?_

The young kendoka had tried almost anything to bring his attention back to the present. Neither her voice nor her gestures did trigger a reaction from him. Under the effect of the drug, the dreadful samurai only looked like the shadow of a man, whose beclouded mind was a closed door. The strong hypnotic power of Dr. Shiroishi's remedy was proving frightening to a profane like her, but Kaoru gathered up her courage anyway. She _wanted_ to help him by any means.

"You haven't eaten yet."

Worried that she had not seen him ingest anything after his comeback, she had then brought from the kitchens a frugal meal graciously prepared by the hostess.

"There is rice and pickled vegetables... it's not much, but thanks to this stupid storm it's impossible to get out of here and buy any better food." she tried, fighting the feeling that she was talking to a wall.

 _As far as I can tell he's barely eaten during that month. He will get sick if he doesn't swallow something consistent._

Kaoru hugged the wooden tray to the futon. She was listing the odorous dishes while passing them one by one under his nostrils. His eyes barely followed the movement of plates in front of him, nor did his arm move when the young woman grabbed a piece of pickled daikon between her chopsticks to wave it right in front of his nose.

"Listen to me, Kenshin... in order to help you, I need you to help me too. So give it a push, please... the doctor said you need to regain your strength."

 _I don't really have a choice..._

The last use of the remedy being already a few hours ago, he was thus standing in the most awaken state in which they had ever seen him since his return from the hangar. It was their best chance to try making him eat before the next intake, that would surely be followed by another long sleep. Kaoru squeezed the chopsticks between her fingers, and pushed the food carefully against his mouth-

" **Watch out!** "

...but as soon as she forced the opening of his lips the hollow pupils suddenly focused on her. Two amber orbs blurred by a primitive and feral gleam, freezing her on the spot. In a split-second, the assassin sent to fly the utensil by throwing an elbow, scattering the rest of the tray with the violence of his gesture. Sanosuke, who was dozing against the wall, dodged at the very last moment the ceramic bowl that had come crashing down on it.

 _I was right he's still dangerous !_

The former Sekihotai, who had been on his guard since the return of the hangar, had felt the danger coming. He was not likely to forget the ruthless moves of the killer he had discovered the previous day.

 _Dunno what gets into that man's brain; I can't take any risks!_

He instinctively leaped at the redhead to contain him, and was met with a fierce scratch of clawed hands, instantly printing fresh blood on his stripped chest. That protective reflex earned him a startled cry and a crimson gush, but at least he was able to push the young woman out of harm before he got the slightest chance of hurting her. Good thing they had put his reverse blade aside. The brawler tried at first to gain control over his upper limbs in order to prevent further damage, but the velocity and savageness of Kenshin's reactions was constantly taking him off balance, quickly driving both of them in a succession of anarchic rolls in the sheets.

 _...He's reacting like a tracked beast!_

There was no Bushido in this barehanded combat, devoid of any martial logic, each of them just struggling to gain the upper hand.

"K'so ! Kensh - calm down!"

Despite his poor condition, the assassin was fighting back like a cornered prey in the grip of his hunter, without any semblance of restraint or self-control. He was sliding beneath his attacker, pushing him away with still weak and shaky legs, biting the flesh coming within his reach, even trying to choke him using whatever cloth he could grasp. At this rate, the streetfighter wasn't sure to be able to tame the assassin without taking extreme measures like using his futae no kiwami, and risking hurting him more than he already was.

"Sano stop ! You're going to aggravate his injuries !"

Kaoru, horrified by the speed at which the situation had blown out of proportion, tried vainly to separate the two men. Their barbaric and erratic movements were making any attempt risky, and she caught out of despair the sleeve of a yukata that was sticking out. Kenshin, who immediately sensed her presence, tore it apart as he turned toward the young woman.

"Idiot, get away! He's not himself!"

The fighter urgently pulled on ocher hair to withhold the assassin right before he could reach her.

"STOOP !"

Alerted by the young woman's cries, Hiko burst into the room. Without taking time to think, he brought his disciple down by grasping his shoulders manu militari, cheeks against the floor, shoving in the process the former Sekihotai, who took the opportunity to grab his legs while rolling back. With Kenshin at last immobilized, the master made use of his second arm to catch the medicine bottle.

"This fool is completely disoriented. He believes he's still imprisoned!"

No sooner said than done, he grabbed a tablet and stuffed it into his mouth. The two men kept the wanderer on the ground a few more minutes, before feeling his muscles finally relax. After a long quarter-hour of regular breath and unmoving closed-lids, they decided to leave him be. When he got up, the former Sekihotai roughly put back his tunic and his headband, torn in the clash.

"... I -I think he's back to sleep for good. Is everything ok, Sano?"

"Tssk, don't worry Jou-chan, this' just a bunch of scratches."

 _Kaoru, on the other hand..._ even from where he was, the brawler could see her arms discreetly tremble, and guess that under the crumpled kimono her heart was yet pounding. _She's still stunned by what she's seen yesterday._

"Until he comes back to his senses, we'll have to make sure that he never stays alone." said Hiko, who was keeping his eyes firmly fixed on his disciple "...and warn me if he gets agitated again, I would like to avoid more unnecessary injuries."

 _If things go on this way, the next problem will be..._

A choice his heart had already made.

 _...Who to protect._

* * *

During the whole next day, Kaoru and Sanosuke relayed each other at his bedside, taking advantage of their moments alone to rest in turn. Kenshin was always reacting badly when someone tried to deal with him, and during his rare phases of wakefulness he was only delirious, sometimes uttering unfathomable words through a litany of heavy spasms. Only the drug of the unsympathetic doctor seemed to work, for every time they were squeezing the little pills into his throat, the wanderer would stop stirring. Well, more precisely, he was plunging into a condition close from lethargy during the moments that were following the intake... And when he opened his eyelids anew after one or two hours, it was merely to stare at the wall with that ecstatic, completely absent gaze. He wasn't more conscious of people around him in this state than during his phases of delirium, but at least did he look relieved of the hallucinations in which his brain seemed to be locked the rest of the time.

 _How can we help someone we don't know well enough, in a condition we know nothing about?_

The more the two friends were watching the assassin, the more puzzled they were as to what to do next. Kenshin never had that kind of reaction before. Actually he had never been in such a state of cachexia in their presence, he had never killed a man right under their eyes before either, and they had only assumptions about what he could have lived during his captivity.

 _What if he was forever stuck in this state ?_

"... I hope he won't stay too long like this."

How long, Kaoru had no idea, but she was praying for his recovery with each passing breath. In truth she wasn't sure she could bear this sight many much longer. Seeing the samurai reduced to this disturbing ghost was heartbreaking. The Kenshin she had met was as lively as he was strong and resolute... he was anything but the fathomless visage they were facing these days.

 _...Is this really the same person...?_

"Yeah... I'm not comfortable seein' him like this too. When he keeps his mouth shut, it's never a good omen."

Sanosuke knew better, for he had witnessed the man's reaction when he had lost his beloved for the second time, and that had been pretty much as troubling as now.

"Listen Jou-chan, there's somethin' heavily wrong here... Ya weren't there to see him at that time, but he's even lower than when he was sittin' in the mud at Rakuninmura," continued the brawler who suddenly had her full attention, "And back then already, a punch had not been enough to wake him up! "

As if to prove his point Sanosuke snapped his fingers again right in front of his friend's face, which stayed desperately amorphous. For once, he was missing the Dr. Takani's sharp tongue. She had always been good advice for them, and although her frequent lectures didn't mix well with the former Sekihotai's loud temper, she was second to none when it came to treating someone.

"One minute he reacts as if he was still in lockup like we were his fuckin' jailer, the next he doesn't even see us... I don't get in what sort of world he is?"

"I don't know either... I guess you have to give him some time, after all we just found him a few days ago..." Kaoru watched the still threatening sky through the window "He must still rest a lot..."

She was trying to be optimistic, but inwardly she was just as worried. Only the thirteenth master of Hiten Mitsurugi was managing to remain stoic despite the situation. He was merely coming to check the room from time to time, scanning his pupil with two creased black eyes, arms crossed in a corner of the room without saying a word. When they had asked his opinion about the condition of his former student, he had just shrugged his shoulders and retorted "Bah, who knows what can cross my stupid disciple's mind? ", and that was all for today.

"...I wonder what Hiko _really_ thinks about this?"

"This man is a damn hermit, looks like nothin' reaches him!" Being himself remarkably extroverted, Sanosuke had often trouble understanding the mentality of people not fond of sentimental demonstrations like Seijuro "Sometimes I feel like he doesn't give a sh*t about his disciple... 'must have been a pain to be raised by such a guy. "

"Perhaps we shouldn't judge him... Had he not been there, we could never have brought Kenshin back. Plus, I wonder why he was in Tokyo that day? I mean, he's never come to visit us before..."

"Yeah, fair..." Sanosuke crushed the remains of candle wax that had burnt during the night between his hands.

 _And if it wasn't for Saito stopping me back there... I would definitely not be here anymore to talk about it._

This being said, no one needed to know that was he secretly harboring these guilty thoughts. Being beholden to Mibu's wolf was upsetting him almost as much as his own pathetic reaction of fear and helplessness when they had discovered the dreadful hittokiri, bathing in the blood of his victims, at the center of this sinister hangar... a haunting picture that nobody would forget, still plaguing everyone's mind despite their best efforts to endorse their friend.

 _So this is the man he truly is... or, at least, another face of him..._ The former Sekihotai briefly closed his eyes.

 _I will never forget the look of that killer._

And the fact that they had to calm him down by force with Hiko the other day did not help his concerns.

"Anyway, to quiet him with meds... I don't like that much." he voiced aloud

"It doesn't make me happy either, in case you haven't noticed." Kaoru dropped the worn sheets she was folding, exhausted to be on all fronts "If you have a better solution, please let us know."

"I'm just saying I don't like it, that's all! It doesn't help, just stuns him."

"I'm aware of that." she added , more for herself "What worries me more is that I feel like we have to give him that remedy more and more often for it to take effect..."

The last dose had to be sooner than the previous one, and the activity of the small pills was each time slightly shorter. If at first they had given him the cure to support the many dressing changes that his wounds required, they had ended up giving it to him regularly so as not to let him struggle with what looked like a waking nightmare. It was a bitter solution that did not satisfy anyone, because it had the aftereffect of temporarily dissociating the assassin from the reality that was surrounding him, but it was still better than seeing him suffer such torments endlessly. First and foremost he needed to rest, body and mind.

To make matters worse, the storm that was ragging outside since several days did not seem to know any respite, as if mirroring in its own way the inner conflict that was devouring the wanderer... The old inn, isolated in the middle of rocks battered by the strong winds of Pacific in that secluded area between the last docks of the port and the first districts of Yokohama city, seemed itself lost in the anger of the elements.

* * *

All around him, an endless fog of ephemeral and sinister images, of archaic and distant sounds...

The metallic color of blood, and movements without any sense.

 _ **I h** ave to **run awa** y from h **ere**_

And in the depths of these abysses, the stubborn smell of hell.

* * *

 _ **Next chapter :**_ A broken spirit

* * *

 **A/N:** ...Upcoming, one of our favorite character's arrival! Will he help, or make things worse? It's up to you to decide after reading it!

See you :3


	20. A broken spirit

**A/N :** As I've promised, the next chapter has come more quickly (yeay !) Please take a few seconds to share what you've felt after reading it (good or bad criticism, or even just feelings) OwO Maybe some of you will recognize the few sentences I am referring to in this chapter, as well as the name of the one that ensues. Hold-on, friends, I won't talk with you for a little while after this one ;)

 _ **Lexicon:**_

Ahou = moron

Onegai = please / I beg you

* * *

 ** _Chapter 20 :_ A broken spirit**

* * *

After leaving the hangar 41, Saito Hajime had barely taken the time for a rudimentary wash and an exchange of clothes, followed by a short two-hours nap on a chair at the local police station, before getting back in motion to visit his former opponent. Curiosity as well as the necessity to close his investigation had gained the upper hand over his primary needs and he had rushed at the small inn to inquire about the news. As for whether he was feeling compassion or not regarding Himura's state of health...

"Saito" at the moment when the policeman's long silhouette came off the paper door, Kaoru walked to the former Mibu to greet him. He too had rings under his eyes. "Thanks for coming."

"And I thought this day couldn't be worse..." Sanosuke, for his part, did not approve this incursion. The cigarette smoke alone was already starting to pollute his living space.

"Here's one way to thank the man who saved your skin... Have you still not learned how to be polite?"

"Tsssk, politeness only applies between human beings. Don't ya have better things to do than comin' here, wolf?"

 _The fewer people see Kenshin in his condition, the better..._ Under his obvious lack of courtesy, the brawler was actually protecting his dearest friend. _As if we didn't have enough troubles, it had to be his former rival who shows up !_

"Tell us, what happened next at the harbor?" continued the young kendoka, ignoring the usual tension between the two men. Even if the wanderer was requesting most of her time, a part of her could not help but worrying about the fate of the young children they had found there.

"If you really must know... It took us the whole night to move the victims out of there, and our teams are just starting to clean the many corpses. Most of the bodies are dismembered and unidentifiable... it goes without saying that all this will require a considerable amount of time and resources."

 _And I'm not even talking about further inquiries in order to dismantle the whole network ..._

"And what will become of the children?"

"All right..." The officer was starting to feel inwardly annoyed at the fact that no one had the decency to ask a single question about him, although it was patently clear that he would not share any personal detail with them. He had stayed on-site until the late morning, having spent almost twenty four hours continuously managing what looked like the biggest case of his career since the failed putsch of the Juppongatana. "The usual procedure : they will be examined by a physician, and as soon as they are on their feet again they will be placed in shelters, until they find an adoptive family if theirs has not showed up yet. As to whether they will be able to resume a normal life someday, it's hard to say... most of them are in a severe state of shock. "

"Sure... I can't even begin to imagine what they have been through..."

Kaoru closed her eyes. The pictures of the evening were still too fresh in her mind, and what she had seen there was beyond the limits of what a sane person could endure. Had it not been for her wavering finances, she would have welcomed the orphans under her roof at the Kamiya dojo without a second thought.

Remained silent since the arrival of Saito, the thirteenth master Hiten Mitsurugi decided to cut short the gloomy atmosphere that was quickly threatening to settle.

"... I suppose you did not come all the way down here just to inform us about the aftermath of this affair?"

"If that's what it takes..." The officer lit a cigarette, trying to pretend that he was barely interested "... How is Battosai?"

"Well that's not an easy question... Why don't you go upstairs and see him by yourself?"

* * *

 _I have seen what the darkness does_

 _And the truth is stranger than my own worst dreams_

* * *

"... ... ..."

Saito narrowed his eyes. At the end of his fingers was consuming the neglected cigarette, spreading its ashes on the floor in the most complete silence.

Even the explanation they had briefly given him was not enough for the policeman to understand the bewildering scene that was in front of his eyes. Battousai was in a half-sitting position, his gaze unbearably empty, red hair a tangled mess above a light gray yukata that was yawning far too loosely around his chest. An impressive number of bandages were covering his body, but most of all... he looked as lively as a rag doll. In short, his former adversary was recognizable only by the three folks who were surrounding him.

 _He nearly looks like Makoto Shishio in this garb..._ he thought ironically, a much more bitter aftertaste than that of the tobacco stagnating in his mouth _...these goddam slavers sure made a good job of him._

"...Has he been seen by a doctor, at least?"

"Whadd'ya take us for?"

"Well it's hard to tell at first glance, ahou."

The sharp eyes of the policeman immediately noticed the half empty bottle that was set next to the futon. He grabbed the glassy container, which he examined by turning it over and over, looking suspiciously at the irregular tablets that were swimming inside.

"Hmm ... may I know who prescribed this?"

"... This remedy? It's the Dr. Shiroishi, the only physician here who has agreed to visit us by this weather, quite frankly."

"Shiroishi... ...Shiroishi..."

 _I've heard this name before ..._

Goro Fujita had in mind a file he had seen lying around in the colleague's desk where he had slept at Yokohama's police station. As a good maniac, he could not help but flipping through the files while he was supposedly resting there.

"If I'm not mistaken, you might want to revise your choice. I think the district's brigade was investigating him for supicions of mistreatment ...or was it unexplained disappearances?"

As he recalled, the said practitioner was the director of an asylum where illegal experiments were likely to be conducted. Although no charges had been formally made so far, an investigation against him was well under way.

"I knew there was something fishy with that doc'!" Sanosuke waved his arm threateningly to emphasize his sentence. He had loathed the man from the very first sight. "If he ever screwed us, I swear I'll kick the crap out of him!"

"... He may be unsympathetic, but regardless, for now his medecine is the only thing that works. Otherwise, Kenshin wouldn't even let anyone get close to him." the young kendoka sighed, thinking back to the incident that had occurred when she tried to feed him.

"Interesting... I believe on the contrary that those sedatives are partly responsible for his problems." he swept the air with his hand "Well, I guess should have told you about it sooner ..."

"Whaddya mean, explain yourself !?" in an instant Sanosuke was nose to nose with the policeman, who spit his smoke right into his face without batting an eyelid.

"We have discovered traces of narcotics production in the hangar, a true small clandestine laboratory in fact. The slavers were probably using them to subdue their victims... So it's a safe bet that they have employed it to tame Battousai as well." Saito pulled out a tablet and crushed it between his fingers, releasing a fine whitish powder "And visibly, what's inside those pills is not very different from opium ; only the galenic form varies... They indeed serve the doctors as sedatives, but they are also frequently found on the black market in a context of trafic and misuse. And, as far as I know, that stuff can generate both hallucinations and addiction." He threw the bottle with disdain "Anyway, I'm not a specialist in this area, but the behavior he shows looks just like that of the drug addicts we pick up at the police station. In other words... " Saito pointed at the wanderer, before simply concluding "... He's high"

"Ya gotta be kidding me..." Sanosuke was on the verge of showing his fist to him "...are ya calling him a junkie now ?!"

"Calm down," sighed Hiko, who was inwardly beating himself up for having missed such a clue, possibly because at that moment he was too focused on a perilous duel to stop his disciple, "He might be right." The more he was observing the redhead, the more plausible the officer's deduction seemed to him.

 _I doubt this is as simple as that, but it could explain at least some of his symptoms ..._

"So ya knew he was drugged? ... And it didn't occur ya to mention this to us before ?!" burst the brawler

"You didn't ask me. Plus that's not my job... and as you may have noticed, I am up to my neck in work right now, so you should count yourself lucky that I still took the time to come here."

In truth, Saito cared more about his former opponent than he wanted to admit.

"All this to say..." He sucked on the last ashes of his cigarette "... that at one time or another, it will be necessary to wean him."

A new series of lightning blazed the coastal sky, punctuating the officer's words with loud thunderbolts. Rain and wind, as for them, were still relentlessly beating against the wooden structure.

* * *

 _Follow me into the endless night_

 _I can bring your fears to life_

* * *

"We have to tie him up."

"...Sorry?"

"I said for his own sake and ours, we have to tie him up." he repeated a little louder this time.

"That's out of the question!" As expected, Kaoru did not approve this idea one bit, "That's inhuman! How do you expect to get Kenshin out of his condition if we're treating him in the same way as those barbarians?"

Hiko glared coldly at her. He did not want to needlessly risk having another delicate confrontation with his disciple in this state. God only knows the outcome this event could have ...

"Miss Kamiya, unless you want to get another blow from him, which is more than likely in the current situation, I suggest that you immediately put aside such unnecessary emotional considerations." He lowered his voice, carried away by anger a little too quickly for his taste. "Besides, it's only a temporary measure."

 _Sh*t. After all that's just happened to him, it's not fair..._ Sanosuke was not entirely satisfied either, but it wasn't as if they had many other solutions on hand for the time being. Since calling back the Dr. Shiroishi for more advice on the subject was out of the question, they were left on their own to free the vagrant from the grip of narcotics. None of them had the experience of this kind of thing, so they had decided altogether to stop the dangerous sedatives, in order to avoid aggravating the addiction or worse, risking an overdose. Which also meant they had to protect the killer from himself...

Sagara gently patted the young woman's shoulder.

"Don't worry, Jou-chan, Kenshin won't probably remember it..."

 _Better to appease the situation. Kaoru needs support too._

Following Saito's advice, the three companions thus agreed to stop the drugs without warning the unsympathetic doctor, and, after a heated debate, to maintain the samurai in bed using ropes throughout the weaning process, to prevent an unpredictable aggressive reaction like the one he'd had the previous day.

This is how, only hours after the last intake of the molecule, the first symptoms of withdrawal began to occur...

* * *

 _There is no language for the things I've seen_

 _Now the darkness got a hold on me_

* * *

The sounds of ropes on which one draws, repeated blows on the creaking floor. Kaoru rushed into the small room upstairs where Kenshin had been secluded. What she discovered there only confirmed her presentiment.

On the wanderer's distorted face, scraping the ground, were mixed dust and saliva of an abnormally thick texture, whereas his body was curled painfully on the futon. Again this jaw so tight that he probably had to bite his tongue, and the irregular sound of a wheezing breath. His eyes were focused on nothing, searching all over the void in a state nearing panic, without the slightest sign of recognition.

 _He's in pain..._

His skin was completely covered with sweat, and he was pulling on the ropes holding him at the rhythm of the spasm that were shaking his body. On his hands tied to the back of his spine, angry nails were scratching in his skin to the point of digging it.

 _Is there nothing more we can do to help him ...?_

All the medical equipment she could gather had been put back in the room by her care. Blankets to protect from the cold, some bandages and a basin of water to bring down a possible fever, a string of candles and trinkets she had found in case any of them could prove useful, even a small amount of food if he ever showed signs of hunger... Kaoru did not know what to expect, but if there was any chance of relieving him even a little, she would be by his side.

 _He doesn't even know that I'm here..._

She wanted to take him in her arms, to reassure him, to whisper him that everything would be fine. But his bloodshot eyes were reflecting nothing but a nightmarish chaos.

 _I cannot touch him. He wouldn't understand, it would just make things worse._

At each convulsion that shook him, Kaoru was almost feeling the pain in her own body.

 _There's no way I'll let him suffer alone._

While witnessing this scene was an ordeal for her, no one at that moment could have forced her to leave the room. She wanted to help him so much.

 _Even if I can't do anything ..._ She was clutching useless wet compresses in her hands _... Even if I can't do anything, I must be there for him._

The young kendoka took a timid step towards the wanderer.

"... Oon ... ... g aii ..."

 _Huh?_

"Kenshin, I'm here, what is it?"

She leaned forward. There really was sounds, weak and hoarse attempts to formulate words, which were coming out of his mouth... But as she was approaching from the redhead to hear him better, two eyes sickly focused on her.

Amber.

Dilated.

For the first time in what seemed like an eternity, their gaze were riveted on each other, and her breath froze across her throat.

 _Kenshin ... is staring at me..._

Those eyes in which terrifying chasms were burning only reminded her of the killer she had met in the hangar that night, and a visceral wariness had since ensnared her. If his voice was barely audible, his staring posture and his pupils in mydriasis resembled those of a predator ready to pounce.

 _An assassin..._

The young kendoka felt an instinctive fear, and sadly, understood that the confused orbs riveted on her had also immediately perceived her doubt. For a moment, she would have sworn to see understanding crossing his face. Kaoru turned her head away as soon as she realized it, shifting in the process her auditory lobes closer to him ... and heard his voice anew.

"OnE ... gAi ..."

He was begging. _Begging?_

His hands were clenching and unclenching alternately. His breath was coming out in muffled gasps.

"What do you want, tell me what you need ...?"

She thought she saw the red mane bow to the opposite corner of the room. Where the little glassy bottle had been abandoned.

That was the only thing she _could not_ give him.

 _He doesn't even know the real nature of what he's asking for ..._

"Oh, no, I can't ..."

Kaoru reluctantly moved away, becoming more and more aware of the risks she was taking by being too close from the murderer, even thought this one was being bound by hands and feet. She would not make that mistake twice.

"I'm sorry, I can't give you what you want ..."

Providing him the longed sedatives would have destroyed the efforts they had made so far, restarting the insidious cycle of addiction. Although she was sure to relieve his suffering with that, she was determined not to give in... But the moments that followed, however, almost made her regret this decision. The infernal pupils that were staring at her gradually lost their focus, and the assassin began to pull on the ropes with a vengeance, while his body was breaking out in sweat. The spasms became even more violent, and he promptly started to wring himself again and then emit moans that soon resembled complaints, far too hoarse and far too long.

 _Is this really what it takes ...? Was there no other solution than this for him?_

While from his lips was foaming a bilious liquid and his eyes were rolling back in rhythm with each contortion, for Kaoru who was watching from the door, every endless groan was a stab in the heart. She was acknowledging his suffering and could only offer him the sake of her presence.

"I'm here, Kenshin ...", she whispered, holding back the tears she had promised to stop shedding, "I'm here ..."

Although the heart of the young kendoka remained at the side of her lover throughout the night, their eyes, however, never crossed again.

* * *

 _Oh, the darkness got a hold on me_

* * *

Not to intervene had required a great deal of self-sacrifice to Kaoru. A thousand times she had been tempted to open this damn vial and put an end to his supplications. Even thought she knew that in order to help curing Himura he had to go through such a phase, accepting a somewhat brutal weaning and moreover resorting to methods that she believed resembled those of the traffickers, was another kettle of fish. Hiko and Sanosuke, more pragmatic, did not see things that way. A former hittokiri out of control could be particularly dangerous, and knowing the forces at work, neither of the two fighters wanted to take the chance of another incident.

The entire episode lasted the whole night, and it was during the next morning that the wanderer's situation seemed to finally improve. The spasms had diminished, the incessant pounding on the ground and the irrational reactions too ... Kenshin looked like he had drowned into a natural sleep. Kaoru had then insisted that he should be released as soon as the main symptoms had passed, arguing that it was inhuman to keep chained in this way someone who had been detained as a prisoner - and tortured in addition, for Kami's sake ! - during more than a month. Once the weaning crisis was over, Himura had thus ultimately succumbed to the exhaustion that was threatening him since several weeks. He had not left the bed for the rest of the day, which went off without incident, allowing the general mood to lighten up.

"I wish I could doze off like that too, I'm tired ..." joked the brawler while watching his friend still asleep. For once, his features were smooth and seemingly relaxed.

 _Better to know he's sleepin' without drugs ... Let's hope that'll talk some senses into him again!_

"It's good to see this! After what he's been through, he could use long nights to recover."

"Hmm." Hiko merely pouted. "According to the innkeeper, the storm is also beginning to lose of its intensity, which means that we should never need to rely on that sleazy doctor again."

 _As soon as this case is over, I'll have some things to straighten up with him before leaving ..._

Sanosuke understood the intentions hidden behind the master's dark stare. For his part he was convinced that Mibu's wolf had already done what was necessary. Saito hated injustice.

"Yep, and the fox lady will surely know what to do to cure him."

"... At last, we'll leave this damn place!" Kaoru added, sketching a sincere smile for the first time in several days. She was in a hurry to get away from those wet wharves which for her were only synonymous with tragedy. "Now that Kenshin is better, we'll be able to go back to Tokyo!"

"... Huh, so you believe he's better? I just feel like this idiot is only sleeping. " Hiko finished, sarcastically.

"Isn't it a good sign, I mean, that he's finally resting ...?"

The master narrowed his eyes. The more the samurai was calming down, the more he was falling into a slumber that seemed long and deep. Since the difficult episode that had followed the abrupt cessation of the drug, he had not showed any phase of delirium ... but no awakening or frank recovery of his consciousness either. Seijuro Hiko had thus no idea what was really going on in his head.

"Well, I think we all deserve to go to bed ..." the young kendoka threw in a yawn, exhausted by the monitoring she had made aside of the samurai the night before.

"Oyasumi nasai!"

She was soon joined by Sanosuke who was also dropping with fatigue. Between the incident leading to a struggle in the sheets and the cries, he had actually only slept very little ...

As the fourth night finally fell on the small inn, its fragile paper lights, blown out by the old landlady, were extinguishing one by one. The master had settled on the roof, watching the sky still streaked with gray and purple menacing bands. He would not close his eyes.

 _He must not be left unattended._

And Seijuro Hiko was right to be suspicious.

For, perched in the hollow of his bed, the assassin was not asleep...

He was waiting.

* * *

With the sudden removal of the psychotropic drugs, his sick brain had brutally regained control of his memory ... And the weight of his reason had fallen violently upon him like the storm ravages the cliffs yet already eroded by ages. The murderer had then held on silently in the dark, until the moment when he would have gathered enough strength to get up. Whilst he had felt the familiar aura of his master, lost in his own thoughts outside the building, it had not slowed him down.

In the dead of the night, Kenshin Himura started to run with everything he had...

 _Run_ , with no destination...

 _Run_ , until everything vanishes...

For in the depths of his soul, still engulfed by darkness, there was one thing he knew with absolute clarity...

This night would be the last.

* * *

 ** _Next chapter :_ See you in life Beyond**


	21. See you in life Beyond

**Chapter 20 : See you in Life Beyond**

* * *

 _« In the moments of fear, I wish to cause one last death. I wish to assassinate the murderer that lives in my heart, chained by my mind. Then maybe I would truly be free."_

 _(Of Two Minds, By: Colleen )_

* * *

To stay locked in the suffocating atmosphere of the small inn was as useless as it was untenable. Hiko Seijuro had remained concealed in the surroundings of Yokohama Harbor, hell-bent on observing closely his disciple during the complex period that was coming. A few meters in the dense mist, two or three jumps to reach the roof of some building, and he was nearly invisible to the rest of the world. No matter the bad weather, he needed a moment of peace on his own to set the record straight in his mind ...

 _What is he trying to hide ?_

Unlike all the others, he could not understand the deep slumber of his disciple. In appearance Kenshin looked like he was asleep, but his ki, which until then had been a swirl of confused and chaotic energy, had slightly but surely evolved. There had to be a reason for this, and the clever teacher of Hiten Mitsurugi was suspicious, fearing like the plague his ability to cover-up his thoughts and his presence, a talent he had himself taught the wanderer.

 _To put him in this pitiful state, something serious must've happened there..._

He was thinking back to the marks of rope on his skin, the blood stains on his skull, and the haunted gleam of his eyes the night they had found him in the shed. For the first time of his life, the master was worried. Genuinely worried.

 _To break his vow... in such circumstances furthermore ... and if he loses control for good, he'll have to be..._

He frowned. The wind and rain screaming in concert were whipping his face.

 _Eliminated._

It was his last job as a mentor. This terrible resolve was already maturing in his mind from the days when his disciple had acquired the macabre alias of Battosai. He was keeping to himself the unconfessable secret of this duty, that Kaoru, Sanosuke, or any of the rurouni's companions could never acknowledge, and of which he had the sole responsibility.

 _It's the best I can do for Kenshin, rather than letting him go definitely insane. Nevertheless..._

During his life Seijuro had taken many lives in cold blood, always in accordance with his own consciousness. Their last hour had simply come, and as far as he was concerned, there was nothing more to think of it. But things this time were outrightly different ... to this child he had given a name. The unending nightmares that had followed the first years after his arrival, the countless little wounds he had treated when the boy got hurt during training, the ridiculous kanji awkwardly scribbled that he had always severely corrected, the nocturnal lessons about the Bushido that the teenager was religiously listening to... he could remember everything as if it happened yesterday... Hiko had basically raised Shinta, and in return had passed on to him all his knowledge.

 _...Will I be able to do it?_

Yet still he had since long prepared his mind to the cruel fact one of them should meet death during the teaching of Hamakeru Ryu no Hirameki, the ultimate technique of their school. Had Kenshin turned out to be an incomplete assassin, without awareness of his own worth as a human being, he would no doubt have died at that moment. Mostly thanks to his feelings for the young assistant of the Kamiya dojo, his disciple had shown that he could feel the will to live, and Hiko had finally grown accustomed to the idea that two masters of the Hiten Mitsurugi school would be alive in the same era. After eventually coming back to Tokyo, he had even heard from the latest rumors that the wanderer had the intention of settling down there for good... The situation now had thus nothing to do with what it once was. It wasn't about suppressing a murderer without heart or conscience anymore, on the contrary...

 _...it's his emotions that have led him where he is today..._

Beyond his rage, he had felt the deep suffering behind the amber eyes of his disciple. An incurable despair, plunging him into vertiginous a spiral of irrepressible violence... And in this case, the sword of a master was the only safeguard to relieve the one whose soul is forever lost.

 _I wish I'd never come to that._

Throughout all his long life, Hiko had never dealt with such a matter of conscience. Unlike Himura he had no remorse about killing other human beings, as he believed that these deaths were not justified, but merely necessary when they did occur. He did not consider himself as a savior or a vigilante, nor did he put his sword in the service of great causes like that of the Ishin Shishi, but he had protected every innocent spirit who had crossed his path... like this little puny redhead with large amethyst eyes, who had given importance to each life by burying his tormentors as well as their aggressors.

 _How come a child with such a sweet heart has turned into such a rough manslayer?_

Maybe his fate was already sealed even before he met him. The incidental damage of what he had experienced when he was but a young child, traumatized by misery, the abject loss of his family and the cruel treatment of slavers.

 _What did he learn from my teaching? Is it the cause of all his troubles? ...Would he have repeated the same mistakes had he run into another master?_

As the night was progressing impassively towards its darkest hours, the long-forgotten memories were flowing through his head with a disturbing accuracy.

 _No ... I would've found his corpse on any path... he would have succumbed to hunger or desperation like most orphans of his age in those days ..._

Because he had been lost for too long in obscure reflections, Seijuro did not notice the progressive appeasement of the storm that was finally coming to its end, after several days of uninterrupted anger... as well as the very purpose of his night watch. It was the unusual calmness that finally pulled him out of his thoughts.

 _His ki..._

There was no trace his disciple's aura nearby, whilst at no point had he seen him leave the building.

 _...when...?_

Hard to discern anything with the rain and the salty wind that had been drumming here most of the evening. Moreover, concealment was an art that the main killer of the Ishin Shishi was mastering to perfection.

 _...Where is he?_

Hiko started to scrutinize the surroundings methodically. He could not feel anything around the inn's building, nothing nearby the embankment at the end of which he was standing now, nothing on any of the docks at Yokohama harbor.

 _Where did he go ?!_

As if the insolent tempest had played its final dance, the wind was gradually pushing the last clouds offshore, replacing the whitish fog by a summer sky proudly riddled with stars... whose heights were overlooked by a moon positively like that of his memory : ocher, almost full, drowning the valley in an unsettling clarity.

His throat tightened all of a sudden.

 _ **So that's what it was...**_ He had that terrible feeling anew. The one who had hit him during his training on the cliff hardly two months earlier, and urged him to travel until the former Edo _ **...A premonition!**_

The master abruptly got up. The cold rain that had reigned supreme over the place for almost a week died out in a last breath, while a pain as well familiar started to rise in his chest. The exact same pain that had struck him that night...

 _A blade..._

...but this time, its intensity was beyond comparison.

 _...A blade is piercing my chest ?!_

Hiko quickly analyzed the sensation that was passing throughout his body. Based on his experience and sharp reflexes as a swordsman, the master propelled the whole of his ki to deflect the invisible blow, causing the inner energy to sweep in powerful waves towards the place where it came from. Following its trail, he would be able to determine the direction to follow.

 _... the forest of MinatoNoMieru-Oka ?_

Far behind the woods that adjoined the harbor, the master sensed a presence.

 _No, he's not going to..._

 **His** presence.

 _KENSHIN!_

Entirely relying on his instinct, Hiko ran at breakneck speed through the woods, heading for the familiar aura. Desperately. Blindly. The huge trees clustered into shadowy trunks were scrolling before him at a dizzying pace. His massive body was tearing off branches, his cloak ripping on their raspy bark, his feet writhing ruthlessly over the ungrateful roots that were stretching out of the ground here and there... _Whatever._

For between him and this presence that he felt gradually disappear, only remained the judgment of time... and every second was flowing away with a little more of his disciple's life.

* * *

 _ **...Ten years ago, an assassin called Battousai made the promess never to kill again.**_

 _ **...Ten years ago, a wanderer named Kenshin made the promess never to love again.**_

 _ **In the frozen plains of Oostu, two feelings were caught in the snow :**_

 _ **Hatred...**_

 _ **and Sadness.**_

 _ **One day came**_

 _ **when this thick wall of ice had melted...**_

 _ **...but all that was left from the man underneath were nothing but other**_ _ **scattered**_ _ **shards of ice.**_

* * *

He had run from the rainy alleys of Yokohama without even turning back... Ignoring the direction taken, pushing his legs with the desperate speed of the one who gave up everything, Kenshin had fled the damp harbor and the storm that was ravaging it. Because his mouth had no words to express his torments any more, because his ears were definitely closed to the world around him, and his eyes could no longer picture the future ahead, the woods of MinatoNoMieru-Oka had been crossed without him realizing it. Echoing the unspeakable distress that had taken over him when he finally regained consciousness, he had instinctively sought to get as far as possible from human presence.

Thirty years of suffering were burdening his steps...

 _Assassin..._

Tonight, there would be no way back.

In front of him, the hill ended by a rocky cliff with modest size but abrupt stones, relentlessly carved by millenarian marine winds. Behind, after the wet-meadows, the forest he had just passed over without giving it a single glance. And as sole witness of this desolate spectacle, a nearly-full moon that was plunging the nightly atmosphere into a pale halo.

 _You will always be a murderer_

Dexterous fingers clutched his blade. So many times had he lost everything.

 _You have dishonored her death_

The timeless beauty of the celestial orb, the gentle melody of the wind who was playing its notes in the high grasses, or the fragile poetry of the fireflies' lights ferreting among them did no longer make any difference. In his universe, alone resounded the merciless knell of his conscience, relentlessly hammering one unique judgment.

 _A danger for each of the lives you come across_

Bitter sobs he wasn't feeling anymore, silent tears sliding down the oval of a scarred face.

 _You shall kill your second wife too_

His callused hand was tightening the handle of his weapon so firmly that his wrists had become livid. His body was shaking from head to toe.

 _You... are... nothing..._

And somewhere between the cruel fingers of destiny, his soiled existence, paved with pain and regret.

 _It has lasted long enough..._

Buried in him, the sadness was so profoundly anchored that with the weight of years it had finally consumed all of him… and all that was left inside his bare heart was this terrifying cold.

"I can't... anymore..."

Since the day he had been thrown into that miserable life...

 _I..._

This shameful feeling he had never allowed himself to unleash...

 _want..._

...was flooding each of his thoughts, each of his breaths, each of his gaze ...

" I want... "

...until devouring him whole.

 **" To die "**

This one night, upon the small hill bordering the woods of MinatoNoMieru-Oka, no merciful-hearted woman with ocean eyes was there to remind Kenshin of his will to live ... She had seen the monster living in him, he had read the unbearable terror in her eyes, and the last chain that was still holding him on Earth had shattered. So much for his promises, so much for his late wife, so much for those he had killed, so much for those who were still living. Himura had come to the end of his wanderings. His diseased brain and sick body, desperately alone against of the nothingness of his fate.

 _One only path for the damned souls_

After an existence riddled with guilt and remorse, the assassin shall complete his task without feeling the slightest compassion for his ultimate victim.

 **One last murder.**

Let this body die...

 _ **See you...**_

From his soul yet only ashes remained.

 _ **...in life Beyond...**_

Clutching one last time the reversed sword, he plunged it straight into his chest, in a skilled gesture aimed surgically towards the heart. The blade moved across the ribcage with ease, slicing the sternum, before a precise movement abruptly deflected it by a quarter of turn inside.

For a moment, time seemed to be suspended, as if the picturesque plain was also holding its breath.

No matter the excruciating ache.

The air suddenly cut-off from his lungs made him flinch and he felt a hot liquid run in his throat, whose smell quickly invaded his sinuses. The last image his eyes took away was the purple blood that was spreading out beneath him, waving between the wet grass.

 _At... last..._

The sound of a body falling from its height was all that was heard in the silence that rained down upon the cliff this one night.

* * *

 **You can die anytime, but living takes true courage.**

 _Himura Kenshin_


	22. This one night

**_Chapter 22 :_ This one night**

* * *

The woods of MinatoNoMieru-Oka had seemed endless. Breath short, wet clothes partially torn, Hiko reached the edge of the forest by the end of the night. Not far from the shore, on a hill where the grass was beginning to spread again. At the precise place where he had last felt his ki.

There, at the end of the small plain aside the cliff, lay a body bathing in a scarlet pond. If it were not for the red liquid that was flowing from his abdomen one could have believed he was merely asleep. The man was curled up in a fetal position, probably in reaction to the pain, and his face was hidden by crimson locks. A true pool had formed under him.

 _...How long has he been here?_

His gaze ran through the large gash that was stretching obliquely across his belly, from the bottom of the ribcage to the hip, cruelly similar to the one he had left him during the teaching of the ultimate technique... Except this time, the other side of the reversed sword had been used, allowing an abhorrent glimpse of his internal organs.

 _Judging by the nature of the cut, his agony must have been slow..._

He paused momentarily on the katana sticking out of his chest.

 _His sakabato..._

He drew nearer the body, as if to ensure that all of this was real. His joints were stiff, cold. His face dull and frozen. His half-closed, formerly azure orbs were opaque and empty. If there had been tears then they had already dried. Hiko felt his own eyes become wet as the understanding deeply rooted in his heart... There was no other ki around the corner and all along the path he had traveled, only the two of them.

It was a suicide.

The thirteenth master of Hiten Mitsurugi remained motionless for a moment beside the red-haired shape. He would probably be dead before the early morning.

 _Is it... too late?_

Without a second thought, he methodically removed the katana, compressed the deep wound with his innate strength, and wrapped him as tightly as he could in his dull white coat.

The moon, quiet guide of the night, was still reflecting its blurred silhouette on the expanse of blood at his feet. The only presence around him were the salty brush of sea breezes and the sound of the Pacific waves in the distance.

Hiko took the nearly-lifeless body of his disciple and hugged him tight...

His own heart was bleeding too.

* * *

The pain was so strong that he was not feeling it anymore.

Is it true that a man sees his life unfolding before his eyes, just before he dies?

All he could discern was...

... fields of rice, soy, daikon as far as the eye can see. The glowing sun that floods them between the shadows of huge red maples. A scrawny, dirty little boy plays with his wooden spinning top, his violet eyes glowing with this innocent light they will never find again, his brothers and sister behind him. It wouldn't be long before they fell deadly ill, thrown into oblivion by a disease so odious that they would perish in their own stools, driven mad by dehydration.

Then as suddenly as he came Shinta disappeared, swallowed by a scarlet sea.

In this bloody swirl, the face of a woman with raven-black gaze took shape.

Was she smiling?

The ocean of hemoglobin consumed her in turn.

As he felt the last of his strength leaving him, another female face flashed before him.

 _Arigato..._.

.

He had loved her too.

.

.

 _Gomenasai..._

.

.

.

His vision slowly faded...

.

.

.

.

 _...Sayonara_

.

.

.

.

.

.

* * *

Kaoru jolted awake with the dreadful impression that her heart had stopped beating. A deep angst, like a nauseating weight paralyzing her diaphragm and the respiration it created… the intimate feeling that something had been lost forever. She grabbed the candle resting in the oshiire and lit it with a trembling gesture. When she got up, unable to sleep again, the inexplicable fear had weakened her legs, and she staggered for a moment before reaching the door and clinging to it in order to gain some semblance of stability.

 _I don't recall having a nightmare... then what...?_

The young kendoka blinked a few times, pausing long seconds while trying to regain her senses. A cold sweat was running down her back.

 _...what am I so afraid of?_

It's when she came out of her room and found Sanosuke also standing in front of his door, his eyes blank, that she understood. Both had suddenly left the bed, awakened by the same anguish that had condemned their slumber.

"Jou-chan..."

Were the only words he uttered. Without concert, they rushed upstairs to the little chamber where the samurai was still resting a few hours earlier. The young kendoka was the first one to open the sliding wooden doors... before dropping the candle from her hands, whose whitish wax was spreading on the floor.

"... Sanosuke ... I can't see him anymore …"

His unfastened futon was empty, the blanket a mess on the ground, and the bottle of sedatives had disappeared just like the sword that had been cautiously placed at the corner of the room ...

"That can't be... He-he was asleep just earlier ...?"

Her face was dead pale.

"...And the sakabato is missing too"

The fighter began to search in turn, frantically moving his hazel eyes, running up the worn-out stairs that were creaking under their desperate steps. The hostel was so small, there was no way someone -even with a slender shape like Kenshin- could hide there.

"Sh*t, can't believe we'd just found him back !"

It had taken nearly a month to get him back, and a few unguarded minutes had been enough for the assassin to vanish into the wild. After having feverishly searched the interior of the establishment, they both rushed outside... where only the thick fog greeted them.

"...He's not here eith-"

" **-Where the hell is Kenshin !?** "

The angry response of the kendoka to his side startled him. Her hands were shaking just as much as her voice. _She's on the verge of hysteria..._ Sanosuke's brain, for once, worked at full speed.

 _Kenshin's out since only two or three hours at best. His master is not there either, which means they are probably just both gone outside to have a man-to-man chat... Kaoru's overreacting._

Once again, the guts to protect the young lady overcame his current concern. As time was passing by and thanks to all they had been through this last year, Sanosuke had become a true brother for her, putting aside his own inner fears to appease hers instead. He had indeed promised himself never to let his comrades down anymore since his escape during the Rakunimnura incident, and there was no way he would fail this one.

"Hold on missy... It's not the first time Kenshin runs away at night to reflect, the dude's lookin' for solitude whenever he feels bad 'bout himself... I bet Hiko's with him, and after what happened I can guess why they would need to hang out with each other !" he reasoned.

"I... I'm _scared_ , Sano"

No matter what he could say, she had this terrifying presentiment that she would never see him again.

"Listen to me, Jou-chan" He grabbed the woman by the shoulders, plunging his gaze into hers. Her blue eyes, worn out by worry and distress, squeezed his heart. "Hasn't Kenshin told you « Tadaima » after the Shishio's affair ? Ya know he's not a man of empty words he'll come back to ya whatever happens. Ya have to trust him, and besides... yar dojo's his only home."

"I know, but... he's not like himself lately...What if _this time_ it wasn't the case?!"

"He's always gotten himself out of the worst situations, ne? Just wait for him here, prepare your best tea -hell not a meal-, a warm blanket, and welcome him the same way you've always done : as if nothin' ever happened, and as naturally as possible... That's the best way to cure him ! "

She knew that his words made sense, far more than the irrational anxiety that had awakened her, but her instinct kept screaming that something was deadly wrong. Like a ghostly burden on her lungs, the oppressive sensation would not leave her body. She had never seen the wanderer in such a state and had a very bad feeling about the reason for his disappearance.

Alas, the events that followed proved her right.

For barely a few minutes later, in the glowing light of the first rays of dawn, stood the massive silhouette of Hiten Mitsurugi's thirteenth master…

* * *

The memory of this fateful day would haunt her eternally.

Seijuro Hiko had returned shortly before the rooster crowing, beating the sunrise of a few steps. His face was shut, his clothes partly torn, and in the crooks of his arms, wrapped in a beige cape stained by purple blood, the livid body of his disciple... Without uttering a word, he had opened the shoji using a single arm and laid him on the floor at the center of the living room. His reverse sword against him, carefully stored in its scabbard.

No words could describe the intensity of the feelings that struck them all at this moment... The shock of sadness, of misunderstanding, of anger even, had dropped a lead weight on their souls... and in the dreadful silence that fell upon the little inn, no one had the strength to voice the unfathomable fact

Lying still on the tatami, the wanderer seemed more dead than alive. Around the red hair dripping with ocher liquid, his pale features were not those of the men who disappear in peace... no, his face was contorted, distorted by unavowable pain and scarred by a heinous scar that was filled with resentment.

Kenshin Himura had committed suicide alone, violently, and without leaving a word behind him.

While the merciless reality was crippling them as a truth with the taste of sorrow, the star of day rising peacefully on the horizon was gradually plunging the room walls into a pale light, painting each of their faces with a palette of bland hues. In the middle of this picture without any color but that of death, each of them was facing his own grief.

Hiko, unmoving statue of stone, could not take his eyes off his disciple's visage, as if defying him by a wordless gaze to get up here and now, and fool the Beyond once again. Sanosuke, his fist clenched, was helplessly allowing his vain muscles to tremble, filled with a rage that had no aim... As for Kaoru, mad with pain, she had thrown the body that could no longer support her legs against the one of the man she had once so much cared for. Her lungs emptied by inexhaustible tears, she would not stop touching his face, lifting the purple locks that were covering it to search for a last look, the light of her beloved's kind eyes behind these unbearably hollow pupils, shaking the stiff and cold hand that was only agitated by her own sobs, unable to believe that her soulmate had thus left her forever…

Yet, it is in the heart of this sea of shadows, that the first spark of hope tentatively flickered...

.

.

.

[There are times when life is clinging to mysterious lines,

drawing miracles between the dark paths of fate, as if laughing at him]

.

.

.

... In his stillness, the wanderer gave a weak moan.

Nearly inaudible, completely unexpected, shoving a shaky trail of blood out of his half-opened mouth, even so... a _moan_.

.

.

.

What followed was a mad succession of hasty events... Kaoru had immediately uttered a scream who got Seijuro rushing to his disciple, seeking a breath at any price, massaging an umpteenth time the injured torso. Sanosuke had run through the soggy streets of Yokohama with all his might, hoping to find a doctor by hook or by crook, any doc -even that loathsome Dr Shiroishi-, as long as he had a chance to save his friend. And it was when they needed it the most, that a second ray of hope in this sorrowful storm showed up, upsetting the systematic bad luck that had been raining down on them for several weeks... Informed by the police contacts of the wanderer's finding, Megumi Takani had come from Tokyo as fast as she could. The trip had lasted several days because of the catastrophic weather, but she was determined to join them as soon as possible, shamelessly pleading each driver to let her use their wagon despite the risks. When he spotted her, looking for the isolated hostel in the mazy streets of the port town, Sanosuke had unceremoniously grabbed the lady by the arm, skipping the presentations to pull her to the inn all the while uttering a litany of frantic explanations.

On site, the young doctor first believed that Himura had passed away already, and had to check his pulse several times to make sure of the contrary. The postmortem whimper was a well-described phenomenon in human sciences, and its wicked habit was to make the deadliest corpses sound like perfectly living ones. While she was starting to cry, feeling nothing at the ends of his limbs, she finally perceived a weak pulsation that was persisting at the carotid. Fighting desperation, Takani Megumi then forced herself to show the best of her abilities, without thinking about anything else but the next step. Obedient to her duty of health professional as a nindo, she began to work tirelessly, not allowing her fingers to shake despite the desire to give in to the emotions that threatened to overwhelm her at each passing second.

As a matter of fact, she knew that the prognosis was very poor, and that every minute counted...

* * *

Not without some relief, Saito dismissed the affair of the hangar # 41. Luckily, in these periods of recent reshuffling the young Meiji government did not bother with collateral victims on a case, especially if they were part of the guilty dock. This prevented them from a heavy trial, which would end up anyway by a death sentence in the specific case of human trafficking. Moreover, knowing their debt to the former patriot concerning the Shishio affair - properly buried without the new republic being threatened - they had not asked too many questions about the abnormally high mortality rate that this whole operation had caused.

 _All the better! That's one less thing for me to worry about. Like I need any more red tape..._

Apart from causing him a phenomenal additional workload, seeing his former adversary abandon his dogma in such a way did upset him more than he would ever admit... Because despite this foolish non-killing doctrine was irritating him beyond belief, he had finally ended up accommodating himself to it and even gaining a deep respect regarding the wanderer for that very reason. Not to agree with an ideal and respecting the one who fights body and soul for his convictions were two different things completely. As for the macabre story of accident that had followed his weaning, not long after the officer had left the crime scene to visit him...

 _I can't figure how... how could such a thing ever happen?_

...for Saito Hajime could not decently believe that this was anything but an accident. Himura and his principles of another age, who was defending life over anything else, with his boundless determination, his obstinate self-control, his exaggerated kindness and his pathetic smile that always failed to hide his sadness...

The clever wolf closed his golden eyes.

 _...Well, that's not really my business after all._

He took a fresh draw on his cigarette. Fortunately for him his pragmatism was often crawling back, much to the chagrin of his colleagues in the Tokyo police who were waiting to see one day an ounce of compassion from this man who preferred as much as possible to handle his business solo. To know that he was married was nothing short of miraculous for them, and it had even become a frequent subject of betting and banter within the service.

 _In the end, Battousai will have at least chosen how to finish his life._

If the mantra Aku Zoku Zan had survived the Bakumatsu, it was keep on living until the final day through the last Mibu. In remembrance of the third unit and everything they had fought for during the revolution, the former Shinsengumi could not afford to indulge in personal considerations, moreover sentimental ones. If the case of the hangar 41 itself was solved, the investigation related to the slavers' network and their international tentacles was just beginning. Many lives were at stake.

 _Wherever your soul is... rest in peace, my old opponent._

The officer closed the file of Kenshin Himura for the last time, storing it in the shelf where the pile of documents would now gather dust.

One thing was for sure however, it would take a long time before Saito Hajime agrees to step another foot in the port of Yokohama…

* * *

Yahiko woke up in the centre of an indescribable chaos. Everyone had returned hastily to the capital in the middle of the night, using vehicles graciously chartered by the police... well, almost everyone. There was a man, _this man_ , who had never woken up. The first disciple of Kamiya school had missed the events of Yokohama, having been voluntarily excluded from the search, but the gloomy fuss that was shaking the dojo this morning was enough for him to understand partly what had taken place there. Fortunately for him, the young Myojin was used to adjust quickly to the most complicated situations as well as dealing with serious emotional shocks, which often led him during his life to grow faster than he should. Thus, everyone was doing their best to make themselves useful, and most of the Oguni clinic staff and materials had been seized. Megumi had Dr. Gensai called for help in the day, then came other doctors, some of whom were of European descent. They had reopened and closed the body several times to carry out visceral surgery, a state-of-the-art technique implemented recently in western countries. They had then taken shifts for many days at his bedside...

Everything had been tried to keep him alive, almost without consideration of the possible aftermaths resulting from the performed-acts, and contrary to all the careful predictions of physicians, the swordsman had still not passed away in the hours then soon the days after his return from the woods of MinatoNoMieru-Oka. Thanks to the combined efforts of all, Kenshin Himura had miraculously survived the blow he had inflicted on himself...

... But the disastrous loss of blood that this wound had caused, triggering a severe hypovolemic shock on his weakened body, had in return put him in a deep coma.

* * *

 ** _Next chapter :_ The red maple hill**


End file.
